Welcome to Storybrooke
by Erik'sTrueAngel
Summary: Part 6 of Clandestine Trysts. The Curse is enacted and the inhabitants of the Enchanted Forest are living obliviously in Storybrooke, Maine. Meanwhile, Mr. Gold has unfinished business with one Isabelle Hunter.
1. Part 1

Rated: M

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Part 6 of Clandestine Trysts. The Curse is enacted and the inhabitants of the Enchanted Forest are living obliviously in Storybrooke, Maine. Meanwhile, Mr. Gold has unfinished business with one Isabelle Hunter.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything of _Once Upon a Time_. If I did… I would rule the world with Rumplestiltskin at my side. *Narf*

A/N: I thought why not bring in the New Year with a less angsty story in this series. I know the last part was an emotional roller coaster, but this should make up for it. Like Part 2 of the series, this is going to be background info on their cursed selves. The first part of this story is the false memories they have, which will explain how Gold meets Izzy and how they developed their feelings for each other. The second part will be the 28 years they have been stuck living in so there will be lots of angst and some hot lovin' for these two. Thank you to everyone for taking the time to leave a review and for enjoying these stories! It makes this writer very happy! Don't forget to review!

Welcome to Storybrooke

By: Erik'sTrueAngel

**Part 1**

Every day was like any other day.

For as long as Mr. Gold could remember he would wake up, fix a small breakfast (usually coffee and a bowl of cereal), open the pawn shop, run to Granny's diner for lunch, work in the pawn shop to about nine or ten (depending on inventory and cleaning), dinner at home, and bed.

The next day will repeat in the same routine. Except on Rent Day. Those were his favorite… walking around the town of Storybrooke and collecting the rent from all the businesses and homes he owned. He had a perverse sort of pleasure in gathering the money and placing it in his suit jacket's pocket. Of course, the only time it wasn't pleasant was when he would have to endure the sob stories of why the rent wasn't paid in full or the ever asking request of an extension.

Having to stop and listen always put him behind his schedule and he was a man where time was of the essence. It wasn't long before people realized that sharing their woes with the likes of Mr. Gold was a quick way for being evicted. So they would suck it up and hand over whatever they had in hopes he wouldn't kick them out of their homes or close their businesses.

The whisperings of "beast" and "monster" and "heartless" were passed around and it thrilled Mr. Gold that he had such an impact on the small community. They were afraid of him… terrified of losing everything to him and the residents would take great lengths to make sure they didn't double-cross the man as he would limp down the sidewalk with his fashionable cane. No one was ever brave enough to share part of the town's public grounds with him, even the diner when he took his lunch. There would always be a wide berth surrounding him and it was exactly how Mr. Gold liked it.

That was… until _her_.

It all started one misty afternoon as Mr. Gold walked to the florist shop—Game of Thorns—to collect the rent. There had been an unfamiliar young man behind the counter with shaggy dark hair and a handsome face that as soon as Mr. Gold walked in, the boy shot him (what the fool assumed to be) a charming grin, which instantly had the landlord scowling in return.

"Where's Moe French?" Mr. Gold demanded, wondering if Moe was trying to get out of it by placing a lackey in the front. Normally, Moe could be depended upon his rent, but there had been a whisper of money troubles and being a small town and all… chances were it was the truth and Moe didn't have his rent.

"Mr. Gold right?" the man asked, ignoring the question. Those dim-witted gray eyes of his lit up with friendliness as the side of his mouth lifted in that annoying cheerful smile that really made Mr. Gold's grip on his cane tighten and temper the urge to smash his face in. "Izzy said you would be stopping by for the rent."

"Well, I certainly didn't come in to buy an arrangement of weeds," he retorted. "Besides, I believed I asked you about Moe French. I don't care what this Izzy told you, but my dealings are with Mr. French."

That wiped off the pleasant look. "I'm afraid Moe is ill and he asked me to run the shop for him today."

"That's rather unfortunate. For him," Gold said. "Rent is due and I'm here to collect."

Before the buffoon could open his mouth, the bell behind Gold rang.

"Greg, you forgot—oomph!"

He was literally slammed into, his balance thrown off as Gold nearly toppled to the ground, yet the man—Greg—caught him before he landed on his bad leg. Pushing the young man's hands away from him, Gold righted himself and whirled towards the person who dared to run into him (although he had been standing a tad too close to the door, not that he would admit it).

A woman… an incredibly beautiful woman stood agape, a combination of horror and concern in her blue eyes, her pale cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

"Oh gosh! I'm so sorry! I didn't expect anyone to be standing right there." She had a lilting accent, warm like honey. Her lower lip was sucked in between her teeth as she worried the soft pink flesh. "Are you all right?"

For the first time, Gold was at a loss. His usual suave and diabolical tongue laid heavy in his mouth as his gaze was fixed on her. There was something familiar about her… but he couldn't place where or how or why he would feel that way since he never forgot a face. Yet, there was something about her that was tugging at him and it was unsettling.

Finding his voice, Gold gave her his patented glare. "You need to pay better attention where you're walking dearie. I have half a mind to raise the rent another hundred for your blunder."

Expecting a gasp, an apology, or even a plea for forgiveness, Gold was stunned when the woman stuck her nose in the air with her thin, brown brow arched defiantly. "Well, Mr. Gold, you shouldn't be standing too close to a door when anyone could walk in. So if anyone has the right to complain it should be me."

She was petite in height and her three-inch heels didn't surpass him, but she certainly towered over him with that glint in her eye and her go-ahead-and-dare-me attitude. It didn't help matters that she placed her hands on her hips, bunching her coat at her waist, her left foot sticking out as she cocked her head to the side silently challenging him to raise that rent.

Gold gulped. Literally _gulped_. Yet, he couldn't let this girl push him around so he raised himself to his full height, using his cane to give himself that extra boost. "_Well_," he mimicked back, "you shouldn't run inside a building when there is a possibility that someone could be standing by the door."

Her lips were pursed and she was ready to say something else, but Greg interjected. "Izzy, he is right you know. You should be careful next time."

So this was Izzy. However, the name didn't sound right to Gold and he shook the thought away from his mind. Why should he care what her name is? If anything she was a public menace running into unsuspected men by flinging open doors and knocking them off their feet.

Izzy scoffed but she kept it to herself. "As I was saying… Greg, you left the rent money at Dad's house."

"Like father, like son," Gold muttered, which earned a confused look on Izzy's face and an amused one on Greg's.

"Actually," Greg corrected. "Izzy is Moe's daughter and I'm his son-in-law, but it's true I can be forgetful like Moe sometimes."

"Hardly," she responded as she stepped around Gold and gave Greg a kiss on the cheek. "Papa insists it's because of old age, but you have no excuse."

It was then Gold noticed the diamond ring on her finger. It was a gaudy-looking bauble that looked too big for her small finger and far too expensive for a florist's salary. He looked at it with distaste.

"Maybe I should raise the rent if a florist's assistant wages can cover for a rock like that."

Izzy gazed at her finger and then back at Gold with merriment. "Greg doesn't work for my father, but we are planning on taking it over when Papa retires. Keep the business in the family, you know."

"And I hope I could afford that rock after winning the lottery and all," Greg laughed. "But if you feel you should raise it on that account… well, I can match it. I have a lot of ideas for this shop that would really increase business."

"Greg is business savvy while I'm book savvy," Izzy said. "I'm just glad Papa told us he needed help when he did. I know he didn't want me moving back to Storybrooke, but he's the only family I have left."

"Yeah and I like that small towns are so quaint," Greg added.

"So Mr. French was experiencing some financial woes?" Gold questioned.

Izzy sadly nodded. "The last few months haven't been good. But we're here now to help him out. I missed working here when I was in high school and being surrounded by these beauties," she said, indicating the flowers. "But don't worry Mr. Gold. Rent is paid full in cash as you requested."

She unbuttoned her jacket and pulled out the envelope that bulged with the bills inside. Handing it to him, she gave him a tiny smile that made her eyes stand out more under the light. They were large, round, and clear crystal blue like the ocean and Gold couldn't suppress the shudder as his fingers brushed against hers when he accepted the rent.

He truly couldn't remember if Moe French had a daughter, but if what she said was true… then she had been out of Storybrooke for a while, yet that didn't excuse the fact that she worked in Game of Thorns when she was a schoolgirl. Then again, when she was in high school, Moe French was doing well and there was no need for Gold to know such petty things as a child as long as his tenants paid on time and in full.

Stuffing the money in his suit jacket, he was surprised at how heavy it felt. _That's strange_, he thought. _It has never felt like that before_.

He wondered if the weather was getting to him. The light drizzle had to be messing with his head in making him think he knew this girl and that she was far more attractive than his ex, Maria.

Not to mention… the fact that she was married didn't seem to faze him.

Gold didn't bother with goodbyes as he limped out of the shop, the door slamming shut behind him.

God helped the next poor soul he had to deal with as images of baby blue eyes and long, wavy chestnut hair danced in his head.

xxXXxx

His next encounter with Isabelle "Izzy" Hunter was several days later.

He had successfully managed not to think about the defiant Aussie lass until he noticed her stepping into Granny's diner during his lunch hour.

She waved hello to Ruby, the ever rebellious and tarty waitress, as her eyes searched for a place to sit.

The end opposite of Gold was crowded and newcomers would turn around and walk away when they saw where the open spaces were. Yet, it didn't occur to her there was a reason for this as she walked right on up to the table next to Gold's booth and slid in.

Instantly, the diners were whispering about this as a couple of them looked at the girl with pity in their eyes knowing the wrath she just unknowingly incurred.

Of course, they didn't know that this move had rendered Gold speechless as well and while had it been any other person… retaliation wouldn't be an issue. Yet, she continued to peruse the menu without a care in the world or notice her neighbor inches away from her.

Even Ruby was dumbstruck as she stared at the bold girl.

The first few minutes put time on the standstill as everyone waited with abated breath for Gold to blow up.

Knowing his reputation would be at risked if he didn't say something, Gold went to rectify it.

"Excuse me," he cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly dry but he ignored it as her blue eyes flicked towards him. "I believe you're in my area."

"Oh?" She looked around. "Well, I don't see a sign that says 'Mr. Gold's Diner' or spot or whatever."

"You don't understand," he tried again, this time his voice low and menacing. "When I eat lunch no one sits over here. Ever."

"Okay," she said, nodding her head in understanding. "But as you can see, Mr. Gold, there are no open spots for me to sit, except here. I guess you'll have to put up with me."

She tossed him a cheeky grin and _fuck_ did she wink at him?

Without sparing him another glance, Izzy went back to her menu and once she made up her mind what she wanted… she told Ruby she was ready.

Ruby, still opened-jaw, walked tentatively over in case Gold decided to target her for Izzy's brazen action. Her pencil barely scratched the pad of paper as Izzy gave her order and quickly scampered off to put it in.

Not even once did Izzy look back at him or attempt conversation as he and the other diners gaped at her in amazement.

He didn't know what to make of this girl-woman. She apparently had a death wish if she intended to continue to antagonize him with her unruffled candor. When Ruby gave her, her iced tea Gold stood abruptly, finding his appetite no longer there. Shuffling out of the booth, he moved past her, almost freezing, when he got a whiff of scented roses and lavender.

Needless to say, he got out of there as quickly as possible without making a scene and throwing in a furious look at the other onlookers in case they thought she got away with it easily. At least he had some of them flinched in their seats, but he did make one mistake in looking back at the diner.

Izzy coolly sipped her drink from her straw, her eyes sparkling with amusement, with her dark red lips curved upwards in a smirk.

xxXXxx

After the diner incident, Gold was determined to find out everything that he could about Izzy. It wasn't difficult to get the information he needed and he convinced himself he was only doing this because someone needed to put her in her place. Not because he was unreasonably attracted to her.

Anyways, if he had been looking for a checkered past or some dark stain in her name… he was disappointed.

The girl was clean.

She graduated with honors in her class, the apple of her father's eye, and with big dreams of pursuing a career in writing. She attended Boston University where she met Greg Hunter. They dated for a couple of years when Hunter won half a million dollars in the lottery. It wasn't long afterwards for him to pop the question and to Gold's surprise… she refused. However, she didn't say no for long and they got married in front of the justice of the peace with her father as witness. Hunter didn't have any immediate family and for the most part… they seemed like a happy couple in love.

_Of course_, Gold thought sardonically. _She probably said no because she didn't want others to think she wanted him for his money._

Unlike Maria. She had no issue in reminding him that was why she married him in the first place, but in Gold's limited experience with the fairer sex… all women were after one thing only—the man with the bigger purse strings. And as a result, Maria left him for some dashing younger man who was one of the fortunes 500.

Good riddance too. Let her be some other man's problem, not missing her in the slightest.

As for Izzy's situation, it was pretty clear that they got married right around the time Moe French started to experience a dip in sales. That had been about six months ago, which Gold had to admire the older man's cunning in covering it up so he wouldn't find out. Eventually the loss of profits caught up to him and he started to have his health decline. A single trip to the emergency room had his daughter running back to Storybrooke, her new husband in tow and the answer to her father's failing business.

What Gold couldn't quite figure out was why bother keep the shop running? Hunter had more than enough money to last them a lifetime so there was no need for Game of Thorns to keep its doors opened. Anything they could earn would be pocket change so it was really just a waste of open space and good property.

However, Izzy and her husband were determined to keep the store afloat. And Gold had to admit, begrudgingly, the boy had some decent ideas.

Game of Thorns had been doing moderately better, gaining more customers, and he did hear that they even hired a couple of part-time florists and a driver.

While that was good for a dying business, Gold had to deal with the impertinent Isabelle when it came to Rent Day. She unnerved him and he had a sneaky suspicion she knew this for she always had a smirk ready on her lips and a quip on her tongue. He would rather she just hand the money over, but she had to make it difficult for him.

Oh yes… she was a troublemaker. Telling him "hello" or "good morning" or "good" whatever time it was and asking him about his day and if he wanted a bottle of water or perhaps a nice floral arrangement for his home after all the irises and orchids are in season and don't they look so nice and smell good after a long hard day's work?

Then the audacious questions about his personal life…

Where in Scotland are you from? What made you decide to move to Storybrooke? Do you have family here? There? Was being a landlord your dream job or do you prefer the work in the pawnshop? Do you like football? The European football, mind you, not the American one since it is ironic they call it such since they are using their hands during the game and not their feet. Etcetera.

Her nosiness was covered up under the pretense of friendly chitchat and while one word from him would stop the foolish prattle… it didn't work on her. And while he couldn't figure her out, Gold did come to the terrifying conclusion that Isabelle "Izzy" Hunter... _DID NOT FEAR HIM_.

This was unbelievable. Inhuman really. Everyone feared Mr. Gold. Even the forest critters feared his presence when he strolled through the woods by his cabin.

Yet, this Izzy was not perturbed by him. Even his rudeness didn't ward her off. She would give him this scolding look—the one that reduced him to a little boy—until one day she warned him that if he insisted in bad manners he would lose a friend.

A friend… _A friend!_

What the fuck was wrong with her?

Mr. Gold didn't have friends. Acquaintances, maybe. Business associates, definitely. But friends? The word was foreign to him and once more he was taken aback by this tiny slip of a woman with a heart and spirit of a warrior.

Then one day the unthinkable happened.

It was a slow day in the pawnshop (when was it ever busy?) and Gold was polishing a white and blue floral pattern tea set. He knew he could make decent money out of it from a housewife who wanted to show off to her friends. He had been wiping down the last of the four cup set when the bell jingled above his door.

Not looking up from his task, he greeted: "Look around but if you break something, dearie, you are paying."

"I'll keep that in mind."

The cup in his hand nearly dropped when his head snapped up to see Izzy standing in the middle of his shop. This was the last place he ever expected her to walk into, but she wasn't paying attention to him as she glanced around, her mouth shaped in an "o" as she looked around at the priceless objects.

Her gaze stopped momentarily on two puppets at the counter, her brow raised quizzically as she peered closer at them.

Gold reached for his cane and moved to where she stood, using the glass counter as a barrier.

"Unique, huh?"

She jumped, her wide blue eyes blinking rapidly, almost forgetting he was there. Letting out a sheepish chuckle, she nodded. "They're something. Very lifelike."

"Indeed." He cracked a grin… a genuine one in fact. "Is there something I could help you with?"

A flush of pink crept on her features as Izzy shifted her weight nervously.

This was odd. He hadn't seen her so… timid that he wondered if this was some new trick up her sleeve to mess with him.

However, he was floored by what came out of her mouth next.

"This is going to sound crazy, but I needed someone to talk to. I know I could talk to Dr. Hopper, but it's not one of those cases; and frankly, there is Greg, but he's not one to understand something as delicate as this and there is a stupid football game on—yes, I mean the American football one and God knows one mustn't interrupt the sacred pigskin ball—but I really need someone who isn't going to sugarcoat everything."

She stared at him with such hope in her shining cobalt eyes, her hands clasped together, almost praying he wouldn't ask her to leave.

This… was new.

Running a tongue over his lips, Gold held his arm out, motioning to the backroom. "If you like, we can talk in the back. Would you like some tea?"

The look of relief washed over her as she beamed at him. "Y-yes! I would love some."

He nodded, unsure and in disbelief he was doing this, and said, "Come this way Mrs. Hunter."

She followed behind him and Gold was suddenly embarrassed over the clutter that was there. He never allowed anyone in the back of his shop, and the mess never bothered him until now.

Yet, it didn't seem to bother Izzy as she found a spot by his worktable to sit at. He sheepishly shuffled to the cabinet where he kept his personal teapot and once it was filled with water, he set it on top of an antique stove to let it boil. While they waited, Gold limped to his table and pushed some papers off his stool so he could sit.

Izzy was captivated by the spinning wheel he had in the corner and she pointed at it.

"Is that an actual spinning wheel?"

"Indeed it is," he replied smoothly. "Works too."

She gasped in astonishment. "I didn't think those were in existence anymore. Do you spin?"

The answer on the tip of his tongue was "yes" but that wasn't true and he frowned at why he would think so. "No I don't."

"Oh." She looked disappointed. "I thought you might. You seemed to have the hands for it."

As soon as those words flew out of her mouth, Izzy clapped her hand over her mouth, the pink in her cheeks turning red. "Sorry. I don't know why I said that."

"It's all right," he said, brushing it off like it was no big deal, while inwardly he thrilled at the thought that she noticed his hands. "What was it that you need to talk to me about?"

She glanced down at her hands, her thumbs rubbing together. "It's… about my father. I'm worried about him and I don't know what to do."

"What's wrong?"

Sighing, Izzy lifted her eyes. "He's sick Mr. Gold. Really sick. He has this horrible cough and it's been getting worse to the point where he can't leave his bed. He won't see Dr. Whale so I don't know how serious it is. He keeps brushing it off like it's nothing I need to be worried about, but he's losing weight and I'm at a loss on what to do. I can't force him to get help. I tried a couple of times by calling for an ambulance and you know what he did? He refused to go with the medics and he kept threatening them with a lawsuit if they tried to remove him from his bed. And because he's refusing treatment… there is nothing they can do. They can't make him go to the hospital. It's crazy, I know, and I can't count how many times I've lost my temper with him. Greg thinks I should leave him be. He's a grown man who can make his own decisions and me forcing the issue isn't going to do anything except make us madder."

She took a deep breath. "I know it hasn't been easy for him. I mean, when my Mum died, he took her death pretty hard. It got to the point where he couldn't go anywhere without thinking about her, which is why we moved to the States in the first place. And he got better. He opened the flower shop and everything was going very well. Even when I decided to go to school out of state… he was supportive. It wasn't until the past year that things started going downhill. Now… I feel like he's giving up. It's so infuriating!"

The teapot began to whistle and Gold excused himself to fix their tea. He returned in lightning speed and she thankfully accepted the hot drink.

Taking a sip, Izzy closed her eyes to get in control of her emotions. It clearly upset her that her father wasn't doing anything to help improve his health, and while Gold, himself, wasn't a fan of doctors either, even he admitted if he felt that poorly he wouldn't be stupid enough to ignore the symptoms.

Setting the cup down on the table, she looked at him. "I talked about this to Dr. Whale, hoping he would know what was wrong by the symptoms alone, but without running some tests… it could be a multitude of respiratory problems. And then I talked to Ruby from Granny's Diner and she agrees with Greg in that I should drop it. Pretty much… everyone I spoke to say the same thing. They keep insisting that if my father didn't think it was that serious, then I shouldn't jump to conclusions. But I don't think that's the case. I think he really is sick and a part of me fears that the only reason he's not fighting back is because he doesn't want to."

"And you decided this wasn't something to talk to Dr. Hopper about?"

"I'm talking to you," she reiterated. "Tell me the truth. Am I being crazy here or do I have to be concerned?"

"Hard to say," he said after a while. "I think it's natural to be concerned in a situation like this. And to be fair… your father is taking a big risk in thinking it's not a big concern. He should see someone, especially if it's upsetting you."

"Should I push it?"

"I guess it's up to you. Sometimes doing the right thing is the most difficult."

Izzy was lost in thought, drinking her tea intermittingly. Then she finally spoke. "Is it wrong of me to think that the right thing to do might be me letting him go?"

"No. Of course not."

"It's just… it's the impression I'm getting and I feel like everyone sees it but me. I know he misses her and I would be naïve to think he wouldn't not want to be with her again. Yet the selfish part of me doesn't want to let him go."

"I wouldn't know much about that, but I suppose it's only natural for a child to feel that way towards a parent."

"Do you have kids?"

"No."

"I think you're right though. I just wish Greg could be that understanding too."

"Trouble in paradise I sense?"

Izzy exhaled. "Thank you Mr. Gold for hearing me out," she said, changing the subject to both his dismay and shock. "I really needed that."

She placed her empty cup on the table and rose. "I should go and leave you to what you were doing."

He got up after her and followed her out. Part of him wanted to stop her, to keep her there longer, but he didn't know how to do that. Yet, Fate seemed to answer his wish as her attention was caught by the tea set he had been cleaning earlier.

"It's so beautiful!" Izzy went over and picked up one of the cups, examining closely. "The pattern is so intricate and simple at the same time."

"Oh yes. I expect I would have a customer willing to rip out their own hearts to own a piece such as this."

The statement caught her off guard and as her head whipped in his direction, the cup dropped from her fingertips. Gasping in horror, Izzy bent down to pick it up, her expression in bewildered shock as her lashes flicked up at him.

"It's—It's chipped," she admitted, her lower lip caught in her teeth. "Y-you can hardly see it."

Of course that was a blatant lie. The chip was more of a crack from the rim to about the center. However, Gold surprised himself by not blowing up at the broken cup.

"It's just a cup dearie."

"Yeah but its part of this set… It must be expensive."

He waved his hand nonchalantly. "I actually had no intentions of selling it."

Izzy didn't know if she should be relieved or insistent in her guilt, but she set the cup gingerly back on the tray with the other pieces.

"I guess there's a reason why I don't own a lot of really nice things." She tilted her head. "Are you sure you don't mind me paying? I could buy it or offer to pay to fix it."

"Think nothing of it, my dear," he told her. "I insist."

"If you change your mind—"

"I know where to find you," he finished with a smile. "You have a lot on your plate now. Just do what you feel is the right thing for your father."

She returned his smile. "I will. Thank you Mr. Gold."

As she walked past him to leave, Izzy stopped to hug him. The embrace rocked him to his core, his world off-kilter as he stood there stiff as a rod. She didn't seem to pay it any notice, giving his waist a good squeeze, before gazing up in his face.

"You're a good friend."

Then she stood on her toes, pressing her lips to his cheek. Gold's eyes widened in astonishment as his senses was assaulted with her floral perfume—roses with a hint of vanilla—her lips scorching his flesh as she stepped back. Giving him one last departing look, Izzy left his shop as he remained in his shell shock position.

When he regained the ability to move, he glanced over to the tea set where the chipped cup sat… a goofy smile playing on his thin lips.

That evening he took that cup home with him. It was a nice addition to his collection in the house and despite the damage done to it… it could still hold a decent amount of tea.

xxXXxx

Since that day, Gold and Izzy developed a kind of friendship where she would often stop by to have tea with him. He found himself suddenly opening up to the young woman—telling her about his ex-wife and how she left him for a younger and handsome man with money.

It didn't slip past his radar that as he spoke about his unhappy marriage, Izzy seemed a little uncomfortable, although she never commented on it. Instead, she sided with him in agreeing that Maria was a gold-digger and she sounded like a vile woman from the stories he shared. He wanted to ask her about her marriage, but he never worked up the courage to ask her. He wondered if something was going on that she wasn't saying, and as much as he was dying to know, he respected her silence until she was ready to tell him.

Of course, it didn't mean that it wasn't killing him.

The more he got to know Izzy and Greg Hunter, the more he came to despise the foolish husband. While Gold never liked Greg to begin with, his dislike of him only grew that day when Izzy confided in him about her father's failing health and how her husband preferred watching a sports game instead of taking her feelings into consideration. Gold might have been a selfish bastard himself, but even he knew when to draw a line. Greg, on the other hand, didn't have that kind of censor. And it only drove Gold crazy to know how she could put up with such an idiot.

Surely, she should know that she deserved far better than Greg!

However, Gold made a point with himself not to be too upset on the matter. Izzy spent plenty of time with him and he enjoyed her company, her smiles, her laughter, and the way her eyes seemed to light up as she spoke about a topic that she was passionate about. It was very easy to forget she was married, especially when she wasn't wearing her ring.

As Gold observed beforehand, the stone was too large for her finger and it wasn't long before Izzy began to have pain from wearing it. So she took to wearing it for a short time in the day and when she was dealing with customers at the florist shop. As for the rest of her day, her ring finger would be bare and it delighted him to see the burdensome diamond gone.

Not that he wanted to admit it because of his personal feelings. It was ridiculous to think that someone with dainty hands could support the heavy weight of that stone forever.

As time went by, Gold found his admiration for her growing. She was an intriguing young woman with insight just about everything and she loved reading anything she could get her hands on. This version of Izzy was different from the Izzy he first met. Even though she had her moments of impudence, she was thoughtful and kind and compassionate towards everyone she meets. She once told him it was a gift she inherited from her mother and he had no doubt of it.

She was funny, intelligent, witty, and clumsy—traits he was quickly becoming fond of and as soon as he recognized that he might be feeling something else towards her… Gold knew he was heading into dangerous territory, and for some reason, he didn't stop nor did he care to.

However, he still had a reputation to maintain.

Out in public, neither Gold nor Izzy interacted with each other. It was an unspoken agreement they had since they were certain no one else would understand their friendship. But she still amazed him with her perceptive nature on just how important in keeping his image it was to him.

There was one time he had lunch at Granny's and Izzy got up and moved away like everyone else did as soon as he entered. At first, he was hurt by this, but then he overheard her speaking to her lunch companion and it all made sense.

"Trust me. Crossing Mr. Gold is the last thing on my mind. After I challenged him he made it clear to me what the rules were and I haven't forgotten. He is frightening for a man wielding a cane."

There were words of sympathy for the brave woman, but Gold was touched by this gesture. He didn't know if he should have gone on his knees to thank her or apologize for making her think she had to do this. Of course, he would ruin himself if he did grovel at her feet, but somehow the thought of prostrating before her didn't seem degrading. If anything, he was a little aroused at the idea of him being the lowly servant and she the mistress. Not that he would admit it.

Yet, she didn't seem to mind playing the role as a terrified citizen.

"I guess there is a reason why you developed that feared reputation from the start. I'm not one to judge, but I think I have an idea why you do this and since it matters to you, then I will help you keep that façade."

Oh yes… dangerous territory indeed.

While there was more to Izzy than a beautiful face, Gold wasn't dead or a eunuch contrary to the rumors. He was quite aware that he was old enough to be her father, and even though subconsciously he knew it was wrong, he couldn't help his primal desire for her.

He wasn't a lecherous old man and he didn't prey on the young, and he did strive to ignore his physical attraction to her. It was probably the closest to the honest thing he had ever done by being the friend, and if she needed (which he hoped not) a father figure. And he never once masturbated with thoughts of her, which was hard to do but he had years of practice to ignore those yearnings and it did take time for the urge to eventually go away. Of course, the insolent vixen did make his resolve difficult to keep and he wondered if this was punishment for his past actions.

Nevertheless, as honorable as his intentions were… all propriety was thrown out the door when Izzy came to his shop wearing a white floral lace summer dress with a wide brown belt to accentuate her waist and a pair of wedge sandals with a white ankle strap and a white and tan corded strap around her feet, bringing attention to her brightly painted red toenails. Her hair was loose and wavy around her shoulders, her lips a similar hot red color like her nails, her azure eyes sparkling with mischief as she greeted him.

He vaguely remembered making a choking sound, although his focus zeroed on her pale white ankles and tone legs that stretched forever until they were hidden by the skirt of her dress preventing his greedy gaze of more skin.

"Cat got your tongue?" she teased good-naturedly, though her preening smile implied she was pleased that she reduced him to a gaping fish.

"No. I-I just swallowed some dust mites. Nasty buggers," he covered but she shook her head, her bell-like chuckle caressing his ears. "So, uh, what brings you here today?"

"I wanted to check out more of your antiques. I'm thinking of putting a decorative piece in the foyer, something with character; of course, Greg would rather go to the mart and pick something out of the homes section."

"I believe I have the thing for you then." Gold went into business mode, gesturing for her to follow him as he crossed the shop's floor to one of the shelves behind the counter. The object he had in mind was on the top shelf so he reached for the ladder propped in the corner and placed it against the wall. His cane he left hooked on the counter and before he could start to climb, Izzy put her hand on his shoulder and instantly freezing him.

"I'll climb. You probably shouldn't be putting that much weight on that leg of yours."

Gold began to protest. It was _his _shop after all and he has done this countless times and who was she to tell him what he can and cannot do…

And holy fuck was that a thong she was wearing?

His eyebrows skyrocketed to the top of his head as Izzy angled herself, her skirt raising just a little to get a glimpse of a scrap of fabric underneath.

"That clock, right? Oh, it's marvelous!"

Her voice snapped him back as he moistened his lips to answer. "Yes."

Izzy stretched out to grab it and as a result… he got more of a look and it was indeed a thong she was wearing. A lacy white thong to match the dress.

How in the world he kept it together long enough to ring the antique clock up for her and wish her a good day… he hadn't the faintest, but he was pretty sure his pupils were dilated from all the blood rushing south.

As soon as the door closed, the limp in his gait was more pronounced as he walked over to it and flipped the closed sign and slid the bolt lock in before retreating to the back room. What followed after… he had no control over it as he was indisposed for fifteen minutes.

And another twenty minutes at home.

xxXXxx

He didn't know when it happened, but Gold woke up one day and discovered he had feelings for Izzy Hunter.

He wouldn't dare say it was love. He was incapable of that emotion.

Lust? Yes. Adoration? Of course.

He cared for her.

Never in his adult life for as long as he could remember had he actually cared for someone. He didn't much care for Maria only that she warmed his bed. Even his outrage at her for leaving him wasn't due to any kindling affections. They spoke vows to each other and those words were just as binding as his contracts and he always upheld his deals.

Yet, Izzy was different.

He actually cared for her opinions, her smiles, her bubbling laughter, and whenever she seemed down… he did his best to make her smile. Seeing her sorrowful or upset was not acceptable. She should be happy always, but it wasn't always the case.

He knew immediately that her father had a bad day when she came in for their teatime. Her lips would be pressed firmly together in a straight line, her eyes would be brimming with tears, and her hands would be fidgeting as a distraction to keep the tears at bay. She never once cried in front of him. All she needed was his silent presence and before he knew it… she would be all smiles again.

Then came a day when she did cry.

Gold was in the backroom pouring over the accounting books to tally up the profits for the quarter when he heard the bell ringing. He wasn't paying attention to the time and figured the person could wait until he was done with his task.

"M-Mr. G-Gold?" the feminine voice stammered. It was soft, too soft in fact that he almost didn't recognize the owner until he heard a loud sob.

Grabbing his cane to hoist himself from his chair, he pushed aside the curtain and was stunned to see Izzy looking so lost in the middle of his shop.

"Mrs. Hunter… What—"

"Please," she pleaded. "Call me Izzy. Or Isabelle. Whichever you prefer but please don't call me that."

Immediately, he was alarmed by this uncharacteristic display. "Isabelle," he decided on, still not a fan of the nickname. "What is the matter?"

Rocking on the balls of her feet, she stared at her hands interlaced and for a second… she looked like she wasn't sure if she would talk to him.

"It's your father again, isn't it?" Gold assumed. "Isabelle, the man is stubborn. I doubt there will be anything else you can do."

"Y-you're right. There isn't." Her features were flushed and there were wet tracks on her cheeks. "H-he's gone."

"My condolences," was the first thing that popped out of his mouth and he inwardly winced at how mundane it sounded. Then again… he wasn't exactly close to Moe French and he hardly knew the man. Case in point—he didn't know Moe had a daughter in the first place. In addition, the notion of grief was foreign to him. He didn't remember losing anyone or what it was to mourn or anything that society deems as a social norm when it came to deceased loved ones. Common sense told him he should say something meaningful, something that would bring comfort, but he didn't know exactly what he could say that would be comforting.

At the same time, he was a bit baffled why she would be here in his shop of all places after her father just passed.

"Forgive me but... shouldn't you be with your husband at this time? Friends?"

Izzy let out a derisive snort. "Greg? He's as comforting as a bowl of nails. His idea is to get piss ass drunk and watch a hockey game."

"What happened to football?"

"Season's over. Hockey's in."

"I'm sorry." He really meant it. He may not have much interaction with other people, but he had the decency to know that there was a young woman grieving and could use her husband to lean on.

Instead, she came to the town's beast for sympathy.

"You're more than welcome to stay. I'll be in the back doing some work."

Gold left her alone so she could gather her thoughts until she was well enough to return home to that useless prig.

The last thing he expected was for her to follow him in, a pensive knot in her brow as she studied him closely. Then in a short couple of steps, Izzy sealed the distance with her arms wrapped around the back of his head, her face tilted upwards as she pressed her lips to his.

It lasted a couple of seconds but it was the best two seconds of his life.

His olfactory senses were in major overload as Izzy's rose perfume wafted through his nostrils; her soft luscious lips caressing his, her nails lightly scratching the nape of his neck.

As quickly as it started, she broke away. A cross of mortification and incredulity appeared on her face, her fingers flying to her mouth.

"I'm sorry Mr. Gold. I'm—" She didn't finish her sentence, turning and running out as fast as she could.

He stared at her retreating back even when she was out of sight. His trembling hand moving to his mouth in the same spot she touched her own. He could still taste her—cherry and that unique flavor that was strictly Isabelle. He looked down at his fingers; a tiny dot of red from her lipstick came off.

That was the physical evidence he needed to know it was real.

She kissed him.

Isabelle Hunter _kissed _him! Mr. Gold! The most feared man in all of Storybrooke and she kissed him _on the lips_.

And, _damn_, it felt so right in that brief period of time.

And he wanted to experience it again.

xxXXxx

The funeral took place a few days later.

It had been a small affair seeing that Izzy and her husband were the only surviving family members. Several of their friends and a couple of Moe's acquaintances also showed up to the service, even Dr. Hopper was there to offer his support. Of course, the surprise attendee of all was Mayor Mills, but that infuriating woman stuck her nose in everyone's business so it was no wonder she would show up at a funeral too.

Gold came as well, though he kept himself away from the group of mourners. He didn't want to intrude on a personal and private moment. At least… that was what he told to convince himself it wasn't because he wanted to see Izzy. Yet, his eyes kept straying towards her figure and he found himself longing to be next to her.

He wanted it to be his arm that was around her waist, his shoulder that her head was lying upon.

Not that good for nothing husband of hers.

Gold scowled, glaring at the incognizant man for comforting Izzy. He didn't seem to realize how saddened she was or how much this meant to her when he kept sneaking glances at his watch and rolling his eyes upwards.

His fist clenched around the golden handle of his cane.

As a husband he should have at least made an effort to appear grief-stricken. If he was her husband…

He stopped the thought from finishing.

He wasn't and he was a sour old man who was monstrous and twisted to stalk a defenseless and anguished young woman.

Christ, he was sick.

Reverend Dale ended the eulogy and as the mourners paid their respects to the deceased and the living relatives… they went their separate ways.

Gold couldn't help the low growl emancipating from his throat as Regina approached the bereaving Izzy. His cane shook as the mayor enfolded her arms around her, hugging her tight. He couldn't make out what was being said, but he wouldn't be surprised if it was something along the lines such as…

"_Your father was a great man. He will surely be missed. Call me if you need anything. Do not hesitate. Is that clear?"_

Goddamned rubbernecker is what she was and Gold wanted her away from his woman.

_His _woman?

He blinked at the thought. While the idea sounded wonderful to him, he knew it was wishful thinking since she kissed him.

On its own volition, his eyes closed as he swayed in remembrance of that day in the backroom of his shop. Her full, soft lips pressing against his, her taste mixing with his in his mouth, the warm and softness of her body also pressing against his gaunt chest, her curves fitting deliciously in his arms…

"Fuck!" His eyes snapped open as another part of him twitched from the memory. He was lucky that no one spotted him still, but if they had… they would be appalled to see he was sporting the trouser salute at a funeral.

Christ, he really was pathetic.

And all over a kiss too…

He cast one more look at the beauty before he swiveled around and limped back to his car. Even as he drove home, he kept reminding himself that she was distraught and she was only looking for solace since her husband's head was too far up his arse to notice. The kiss meant nothing to her. She probably would have kissed any available man if he showed any inkling of kindness to her distress. Of course, the thought of any other man kissing her sent his ire aflame, the green-eyed beast within him roaring to make its claim.

But he was being ridiculous.

She was married and he was an old man who couldn't control his ardor over a beautiful creature.

She didn't want him.

_No one_ wanted him.

Putting the car in park, Gold got out and went to the front door. Once inside, he began to remove his coat and suit jacket, leaving him in his burgundy dress shirt and charcoal gray tie and pants. Going into the kitchen, he made some tea and heated up a frozen dinner, not being in the mood to cook.

His meal ready to eat… Gold sat at his kitchen table and ate in silence. His hand reached for his cup when a knock disturbed him, almost dropping the cup on the table. He listened quietly and figured he imagined it; he went back to his dinner when the knocking picked up again.

This time the rapping sounded urgent.

Wondering who on earth could it be and whoever it was going to get hit over the head for disrupting him, Gold grabbed his cane and wobbled to the door.

All preconceived thoughts of bludgeoning fled as Isabelle stood on his porch. She gazed at him hopefully and a little remorseful as she played with the fabric of her black dress.

"Hi," she said.

"Hey," he said back.

"C-could I—Could I come in? It's a little chilly," she sheepishly admitted and his eyes widened at his stupidity. Of course, she had to be cold! She only had a poor excuse of a shrug on over her dress.

"Thank you," she said a splash of pink spreading on her cheeks. "I left my coat in Greg's car."

"Did you… did you walk here?" he asked in disbelief.

"I needed the fresh air," Izzy admitted. "And the company wasn't desirable." Her tone was flat, but there was no denying she was referring to only one man. "I saw you there. At the funeral."

Gold's spine stiffened and he tried to shake it away. "I was merely passing through. I didn't stay."

"That's not true," Izzy insisted, following as he walked into his parlor. "You were there for most of the service. I was wondering why you didn't join us."

"I didn't want to intrude," he murmured, his eyes riveted to the floor. "Please sit."

She accepted his gesture and sat on the settee. Gold sat too in a chair to the left of her. A couple of minutes in silence passed between them until Izzy cleared her throat.

"You have a nice home."

"Thank you."

The small talk kept its limits to the décor of the Victorian house, but it was evident to the both that there was something else on their minds that they wanted to talk about… however, they were lacking the courage to be the first to speak up.

At last, Izzy made the first move.

"Mr. Gold, the other day at your shop—"

Fearful and anxious to hear what she had to say, Gold beat her to it. "It's all right. You were upset and you had a lapse in judgment."

"Excuse me?" She frowned.

Sighing, Gold kept his eyes glued to his cane. "I know who I am in this town as do you. I also know that in your grief… you weren't in the best state of mind and the kiss was nothing more than to help you forget. You need not apologize."

"I'm not—I wasn't…" she trailed off, shaking her head to gather her thoughts, Izzy gave him a pointed look. "You actually think I wasn't in the right state of mind when I kissed you?"

"How else can you explain it?" Gold argued. "You wanted to?"

"Yes." That one word… so simple yet carried so heavy a response that Gold felt all the air in his lungs whooshed right out.

She couldn't possibly mean…?

Crossing her ankles over, Izzy laid her hands in her lap in a demure manner as she calmly explained herself in what was a surreal and bizarre moment in Gold's life. She spoke so casually as if they were conversing about the weather.

"I have been thinking about it a lot lately, but I was too afraid that maybe you didn't feel the same way. Then when my father died… I had this crazy thought. It kept bugging me as I walked to your shop: do the brave thing and bravery will follow. I know I was putting a lot at stake, in particular losing your good graces and friendship, but it was a risk I was willing to take. And losing my father made me realize how short life was and I couldn't live with the what-ifs unless I change. I can only imagine what you think of me… a married woman intentionally kissing another man. I swear I'm not that kind of person. I'm not. But I wanted to know what it would be like to choose to do something that _I _wanted rather than what someone else wants. I wanted to do something that would make me happy, even for a fleeting moment."

At this, her voice wavered with emotion. She waited for him to say something, but Gold was too stunned, too dumbfounded to speak. Sensing his silence must be due to his abhorrence, Izzy hastily continued.

"I know I must sound like some silly, foolish girl and maybe I am… but you have no idea what kind of life I've been leading. You're the only person I ever felt truly comfortable with and it killed me that I wasn't being completely honest with you while you were so nice to me. I thought that our tea time chats would be enough, even the days when you came to collect the rent, I just had a little slice of happiness to be content with until the next time. But it wasn't. I wanted more, _craved _more. I understand if you never wanted to see me again and I can accept that. I only wanted you to know that I like you. Really like you."

Getting no response, Izzy's lips quivered as she forced a smile. "I-I'll see myself out. Goodbye Mr. Gold."

"Wait." He moved his cane to block her from leaving. Looking up at her, he saw that the carefully placed mask she had worn was cracking and exposed was a nervous girl trembling in her shoes with such desperation that only he could make or break her. "Sit."

He wasn't kicking her out. He wanted her to stay.

Obediently, Izzy sat back down, her countenance showing a glimpse of hope. Yet, Gold still had a hard time believing that this was real.

"I don't understand…" he began. "I thought you and your husband were…" he choked here, "happy together."

"We're not," she replied flatly. "Not for a long time anyways."

"There are rough patches now and then…"

"Not like this," Izzy interjected. "Greg and I… we're so different. We have little in common."

Now this revelation was interesting. "Then why did you?"

"In the beginning, I said no. True, he just won the lottery and I didn't want others to think it was because of the money, even though we were dating beforehand. And the dates were fine, but when he proposed… I didn't get that giddy feeling that most women should get. I knew in my gut that Greg wasn't for me. Then when Papa started having trouble… He always liked Greg. They got along really well and when I told him that Greg proposed… my father was upset that I didn't say yes."

In her best imitation, she deepened her voice as she spoke, "'Why would you turn him down Izzy? He can support you, make sure you're well taken care of, and he loves you so much. I just want to make sure you're going to be all right. I won't live forever Izzy. I want to see my baby girl married and with a man I approve. Please reconsider before you turn him down for good.'"

She shrugged. "I liked Greg well enough and I figured I would eventually fall in love with him. People do it all the time so why not us? Plus, I knew it would make Papa happy. So I accepted and when Papa started to get worse we moved to Storybrooke so I could be closer to him. He was so happy that we married that I thought maybe this could work. Greg was attentive, helpful, and I knew it was just me that was the problem. So I did the very best I could to be the perfect wife for Greg and the depiction of happiness for my father. As long as I knew my father was happy and was pleased that all was well, and then I figured things would work it out. There were good days and then there were days that I wished I could go back and do things differently. Nevertheless, I tried to make it work. I really did but Greg and I had all these differences and then I started to see the real side of him. He didn't like me working at the shop because I should be home playing the happy homemaker, unless it was Rent Day. Then I was allowed to be there to deal with you. Other than that, I should clean, cook, and fetch whatever his heart desired. To him that was how a real wife should be. It was like… he changed into this horrible person all of a sudden. It was like I never really knew him at all. And I was stuck, chained to obey his whims. To be honest, I was surprised I was even allowed to walk around without wearing a collar so everyone knew who I belonged to."

"And your father never knew this?" Gold's voice took on a bit of an edge, his anger aroused.

"No," Izzy admitted albeit ashamed. "I tried to tell him but he was so sick and he looked so happy whenever he saw Greg and me… I couldn't break his heart."

"That worthless piece of shit." Gold's shoulders shook as he got to his feet, while his grip on his cane was steady. "You shouldn't have to live like that. Why… I will go down there and give him a piece of my mind—"

"No!" Izzy jumped up, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. "Believe it or not, Greg does love me in his own way. He has never been outright cruel and he has never laid a hand on me. He just thinks that's how a marriage is. That was how he was brought up."

"That's a piss poor excuse if I ever heard one," Gold snarled. "He's suffocating you and you're defending him."

"It's not ideal, okay? I know but it's not all bad. Despite his reaction to Papa's death and the funeral... Greg isn't a super emotional guy and situations like these do make him uncomfortable. Does he handle it correctly? No. But I can't hold that against him. It's the kind of person he is and I have learned to deal with it."

"Well, your father is gone now and there is no reason why you need to stay married to him," Gold said.

Her eyes slipped closed as she inhaled. "I wish it's simple as that, but I would be blindsiding him if I told him I wanted a divorce. He isn't a bad person and he has done so much for us… he saved my father's shop from going completely under. I couldn't repay him by leaving him in the dust."

"But you will stay willingly in an unwanted marriage?" he asked incredulously. "Because you feel indebted?"

"Mr. Gold," she said softly. "I made my decision when I married Greg. It's a promise I intend to keep no matter how unconventional it may seem. But now do you see why I kissed you? Why I wanted to?"

Breathing sharply, Gold stared deeply into her blue eyes. "Yes."

"Good because there is something else I want to say." Licking her lips, she sidled closer to him, her hand slipping down to cover his on his cane. "You have been on my mind. Constantly distracting me and when I'm with Greg… I imagine it's you in my bed."

He couldn't suppress the shudder as her voice dropped a couple of octaves, her accent a raspy seduction. "Please give me this moment. Let me be happy with you. That's all I want… Please… Gold…"

It was the whisper of his name, tickling his ear, a desperate plea that he was too weak to ignore. A stronger man would have resisted, would have argued she was going about this all wrong, but Gold had spent far too long fantasizing and lusting after her to think clearly. And it didn't help that she was pressing up against him that caused his sanity to shatter into a million little pieces.

He smashed his lips to hers—the time to be gentle was thrown out the door and this was pure want and lust that was fueling into their kiss. He wasn't a good man… never pretended to be and this was another fine example that he was putting his selfish desires first.

But, of course, he didn't give a cuntybuggeryfucktoleybumshite damn when her tongue was snaking around his and her fingernails were scratching the nape of his neck in… that… spot…

He growled, the rumble sounding almost threatening, but he gave it as good as he got by sucking her lower lip between his teeth, biting and pulling on the fleshy part as his tongue dipped into her gasping mouth taking control of the kiss. When the need to breathe became too much, Gold let her lip go with a plop before dragging his lips down her elegant neck.

He found a sensitive spot that made her breath catch and a low moan burst from her as he sucked the bit of skin at the slope of her neck and shoulder. Her head was falling back as she arched further into his demanding and relentless mouth and teeth as he bit down hard at the juncture causing her to scream his name. His tongue laved the spot to ease the sting, but he couldn't suppress the smirk that he made her react like that.

And they hadn't even taken their clothes off yet.

His cane was gone and with his Isabelle—yes, _his_ even for this moment—in his arms they managed to make it into the hallway where Gold slammed her against the wall, his hand on the zipper of her dress, yanking it down to expose more of her delectable and tasty skin for his exploration.

The dress gave way and fell to the floor without argument as Isabelle stepped out of it, kicking the offending garment away. Gold roared his approval as he cupped her lacy-clad breasts, his nose nuzzling the valley as he groped and squeezed the mounds with increasing pressure. The little noises he was eliciting from her spurred him on as he peppered kisses between nipping at the tops of her breasts. He dug his fingers behind her, searching for the clasp, and with one impatient tug… the material loosened and he ripped it from her so he could feast more upon her.

He wanted to mark her… to make her remember that she was in _his_ arms, that _he_ was giving her this pleasure, that later on when she touched her raw and sensitive breasts she would remember that it was _his _mouth that suckled them, _his_ fingers that pinched her nipples hard.

There was a loud thud and as he broke his lavish attention on her… it was to see that her head hit the wall, her eyes screwed shut and her mouth panting in a round "o." Discerning she was all right, Gold went back to his ministrations alternating between each breast with his mouth and hand. He was quickly becoming addicted to her and he loved how one full mound filled his palm perfectly.

Gold quickly squashed the notion what that means… the idea of romance had no business here, not when this was fucking in its rawest emotions.

His brief distraction gave Isabelle the opportunity to divest him of his tie and when her fingers started on his buttons… Gold grabbed her wrists and forced them back against the wall above her head. The look on his face was feral—his eyes, a soft brown, were now a primitive black; his lip curled to the side, showing his teeth, which almost appeared sharp and pointy like a wild animal. It didn't help that she had mussed his hair, making the gray and dark ends stick out like an unkempt mane.

He was absolutely beastlike—the monster of Storybrooke—and it was the first time Isabelle took notice that he did live up to his nickname.

However, unlike the fear that it usually inspired, it only made her wetter and hotter for him.

And he did take note of it when one intruding finger poked into her underwear, the digit rubbing her as another gush of wetness pooled at her legs. His grin could only be described as wolfish as he brought his finger to his lips, sucking it inside to taste her juices.

Isabelle whimpered and squirmed in his embrace, but he wasn't going to show her any mercy.

"Ah, so the beauty truly does desire the beast," he cooed, his brogue thickening and taunting her. "What would they think? That the prim and proper Isabelle Hunter is sopping her knickers for a man twice her age, the town monster." He stuck his finger down there this time inserting the tip of his finger while encased with her panties inside her, groaning as her inner muscles tried to clamp down on him. "They would be thinking nasty things, dearie. Such nasty terrible things that this beast could do to a sweet, defenseless girl."

The last statement he punctuated each word with a teasing graze, his hot breath washing over her ear.

"And they wouldn't be wrong," he spoke in that promising lure that Isabelle nearly came undone with just the sound of his voice.

She let out a surprised squeal as the silken panties were ripped from her, her eyes rolling to the back of her head realizing he was right.

He really was a beast…

Instead of dropping to his knees, which she expected he would do, completely forgetting he had a bad knee, Gold led her to the stairs but not to go up… he pushed her so she was sprawled on top of them. Isabelle watched from half-lidded eyes, her tongue moistening her lips, as Gold undid his belt and began to unzip his pants. He was already hard… had been from the moment she walked into his home, her tantalizing perfume clouding his senses, and it only grew worse when she admitted she wanted him.

Now, his pants were at his feet, his boxers joining them, as he carefully stretched on top of her, using the lower step as leverage to take the weight off his bad leg. Isabelle barely had the chance to get a better appreciative look at him, but she could feel him as his cock bobbed and rubbed her, letting her know she was in for a ride.

She hardly prepared herself as Gold thrust deeply into her, but it didn't matter as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, encouraging him to move deeper and harder.

The moment he entered her… Gold lost all control of himself, the only thoughts of _take_ echoing in his head as he pounded into her. It never occurred to him the position maybe uncomfortable, but Isabelle didn't seem to mind as her nails dug into his back, her pants and moans telling him that he was getting it right, right there, and oh yes…

It wasn't long before he exploded inside her and after a couple of more hardened thrusts… Isabelle followed after. They lay together like that, boneless and exhausted, the loud drumming of their hearts and the harsh gasps filling the quiet room. Only when her back started to protest that they began to untangle their limbs from each other.

Gold helped her up on shaky legs as she wobbled to the pile of her clothes. Wordlessly, Isabelle dressed while he fixed himself, part of him suddenly too nervous to look at her. He had been rough with her, and in the heat of the moment it hadn't matter, but as the sobering truth hit him… he cringed at his beastliness.

"Mr. Gold?"

He forced himself to look at her, to see what his insatiable lust did, but instead of finding a remorseful woman, Isabelle was the poster child of a debauched woman who thoroughly enjoyed herself: mouth swollen and bright red, flushed complexion, neck sporting pink splotches from his attention, hair mussed, and azure eyes looking positively sated.

Suffice to say… she looked like she could go for another round.

Yet, her presence was required for the obligated post-funeral dinner and if she was gone for too long, then it would be a matter of time before anyone traced her whereabouts. And neither one of them wanted this—whatever _it_ was—to end soon.

"Thank you. I'll see you around?" she asked, her eyes glistening with the prospect of another encounter.

He found himself returning her crooked smile. "As you wish."

TBC…


	2. Part 2

A/N: In honor of the snow day I have for work today and tomorrow… I was able to work on this other half! Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing! Also, have no fear about Lily-Rose. The first chapter was the cursed memories of Gold and Izzy as they started their affair and this one will contain what life was like during those 28 years with time standing still as well as flashback memories to explain their current relationship. Anything after the "xxXXxx"  
indicates the time of the Curse while "xXx" is the false memories.

Also, the book Isabelle/Belle mentions is a fantastic read! And if you find a copy of it, then I recommend reading this gothic romance.

The last part of this series (Part 7) will take a while. It was the only one I struggled with and ended up being far longer than I anticipated so there will be at least 5-6 chapters to complete this AU. I'm sure that won't be a bother to anyone. *grins evilly*

Don't forget to feed this hungry authoress with those reviews!

**Part 2**

He was utterly, irrevocably fucked.

Reaching for the bottle of scotch, Gold didn't bother pouring this time and took a drink from the glass itself.

He messed up. He messed up in the completely, irreversibly, and can't turn back way.

What was he thinking?

That's right… he wasn't thinking… not with the right brain anyways.

Oh… and how could he possibly forget his heart too?

Fucking, stupid heart.

Gold took another swig, his vision blurring as the liquid burned down his throat. To be fair, it wasn't completely his fault. Isabelle had much to blame in this as well.

His mind wanted to curse her. Wanted to rave and rant at how she was a cunning little bitch that planned this whole thing out to ruin him.

Yet, while the thought appeared… the part of him that was still human whispered it wasn't true. She wasn't the kind of person to purposely manipulate someone or use them for some ulterior motive.

While that cynical, darker voice whispered how that was a lie. She _did _have something to gain from this and she played him exactly where she wanted him. Wasn't that how young women get what they want from a man? And stupid blighter that he was… he fell for her siren-like looks and that ridiculous soft accent.

Not to mention her promises she made to him. Those words he was so desperate to hear and like a besotted schoolboy he _clung_ to them as they were from the Holy book themselves.

Well, he showed _her_. She thought she could take advantage of him and he proved how wrong she was. No one messed with Mr. Gold.

_No one_.

As soon as his intoxicated gaze happened to settle on that chipped cup, then the memories of that ill-fated night came back to haunt him.

He was a monster in more ways than one and he made it quite clear to the one person he thought was different. The one he thought he had a chance to prove that he was more than this shell of a man.

Letting out another derisive snort, Gold swallowed the rest of the contents. Mumbling another curse that would have burned Ms. Blanchard's ears, he stumbled over to his alcohol cabinet and grabbed another bottle, twisting it open, as he continued his overindulgence of his fine scotch and whiskey collection.

Falling back in his seat, Gold closed his eyes as he replayed the day's recent events in his head.

How could this have happened? How could he have let this gone so far?

Fuck… her eyes! Why did her eyes have to look like his?

xXx

It was amazing how easy it was to conduct their affair without anyone discovering what they were doing. Then again… no one knew Izzy and Gold were friends since they continued their aloof regards to each other whenever their paths crossed. Besides, Isabelle was a decent actress when she needed to feign her repugnance towards him. Of course, it was rather difficult to conjure the emotion when he was buried balls deep in her or if he was too busy eating her out.

Their appetite for each other hardly waned as they were looking for inventive means to be with the other and how quickly they can get the other off in a short amount of time. It was a game they both enjoyed playing, especially if there was the scent of danger being caught was hanging in the balance.

God knows how many times they went at it in his backroom and the one time there was a customer in the front while Izzy was on her knees sucking the life out of him as Gold was supposedly retrieving an item that needed to be repaired. When he did finally emerged, the customer wanted to know why it took so long, and Gold answered in his offhanded way.

"A delicate piece like this needs to be handled with care otherwise it might come apart."

Once the annoying person was gone, Isabelle poked her head through the curtain, snickering.

"Really Gold?" she teased. "'A delicate piece'?"

"Well," he replied. "That had a beautiful craftsmanship to it and I do hate to see something being manhandled like that." Then he stuck his tongue between his teeth as he leered. "Of course, there are other parts that do like to be manhandled dearie. You should know."

She laughed in her alluring bell-like chime before she left. Then he was once again alone with only the memories to keep him sustained until they met again.

Despite doing it in public, they were careful to avoid complete exposure. Their dalliances were resorted to his pawnshop and the rare occasion at his house. His home was used when Greg was at the Rabbit Hole to watch a game or if he was hanging with his friends. Then Isabelle had at least several hours to spend with Gold before she would be missed.

They didn't meet every day—it would be too noticeable if she was gone for long periods of time. Nor did they keep a scheduled pattern. At most, if they were lucky, they met twice a week or else it would be the one time. Izzy even cut back the afternoons she would have tea with him. While she had been lucky that no one noticed, she didn't want to risk it now that they were lovers.

Gold couldn't blame her for that, although he was loathed to give up those quality moments spent together. He never voiced it aloud since it was agreed upon that they shouldn't get their emotions involved. This was a purely an arrangement to scratch the itch when needed and for Izzy to forget her miserable marriage to Greg Hunter.

He wasn't convinced it was love he felt for her. Yes, he still felt strongly for her like he did before they went to the next level. But not love.

However, he knew he didn't like it when she had to leave him. And he _hated _seeing her out with her husband all smiles and joking and holding hands… It was all part of the charade, he knew, but it didn't stop the green-eyed monster from rearing its ugly head and suffocating the air around him.

Only _he _was allowed to touch her. Only _he _could make her truly smile and laugh. Only _he _could kiss that delectable mouth.

He could never reveal to her the real reason why after catching her on an evening out with her husband that he took her roughly the next time they met. He would lose control every time too while the deepest, primal part in him wanted to mark every inch of her and let her know that he was the master over her body. He knew where she liked to be caressed, to be kissed. Only he knew how to make her thrash uncontrollably, to make her scream and mewl, and to make her orgasm several times in one sitting.

Could Greg do the same?

Well… if her startling, amazed, and lethargic reaction wasn't a dead giveaway, then he didn't know what was.

Perhaps he was being obvious with his intentions, but did she have to flaunt the fact she was married? He knew he would never able to forget so why torture him?

Of course, he never told her and she never brought it up, but the little minx must have figured it out since she made it a point to be seen with Greg whenever possible. Her punishment for her impertinence always left her weeping and soaking her panties with her desire until he took pity and ended her torment. Then there was one delicious tryst that he decided to use his antique dagger, which she discovered a couple days ago, to teach her a lesson about who her master really was.

After that spectacular climatic evening, Isabelle wasn't able to look at him or knives (for that matter) for nearly a week. When he entered Granny's for his usual lunch date, he made it a point to be seated within her vision. Her reddened cheeks and the darkened shade of blue in her eyes was all the answer he needed as he took his sweet time ordering (twirling a knife with his fingers) and eating (making deep, purposeful cuts in his meatloaf)

He was being a bastard, he knew, with his teasing and even left a hefty tip for Ruby for unknowingly contributing to his flirting.

"So, uh, Mr. Gold… is everything okay?" she asked with hesitation in her voice as she kept a close eye on the knife he was dragging on top of the table. Since he entered the diner, the knife had not left his hand and it was making her and the other diners uneasy. The idea of Gold and a knife together… Ruby inwardly shuddered at the horrible possibilities.

Noticing her fixated attention on the knife, Gold had to hold back a snicker. "Well, Ms. Lucas, as you may know, the time for the rent is almost due and it makes me very disagreeable when I suspect someone is not going to have it ready."

"W-w-who?" Ruby asked, wondering if she and Granny were in his doghouse but relaxed as she remembered that they had enough for the restaurant and inn.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't like to give out names, Ms. Lucas, but rest assured, you and your grandmother have nothing to be worried about." Leaning back in his seat, he waved the knife in front of his face, slowly, so the poor light could reflect off it. "Of course, I can't say for the other residents."

That earned him a visible shiver from Isabelle, but as a bonus… everyone who heard this had their rent ready without any fuss. One person even paid another month upfront to avoid upsetting the temperamental landlord.

Nevertheless, it didn't take long for things to change for Gold.

His denial over his feelings for Isabelle couldn't be refuted when he had a dream about her and his dream self-told her that he loved her. It was a strange dream too… they were in a dungeon of some kind and he was dressed like a scaly-type beast. His conscience nagged at him that there was something important he had to remember, but the more awake he became… the more he realized he did love her.

He was royally fucking screwed.

Because it meant he wanted more time with her than the stealing chances they had. He also wanted to spend one whole night with her, to hold her in his arms, as she rested her face against his neck.

He wanted her as his wife.

That road was a dangerous one to go down, especially since his last marriage was a disaster.

But Isabelle was different. She made him feel like a younger man and their sex life was anything but boring. She kept him on his toes and she was his equal in intelligence. Wrapped that up with a pretty face and Isabelle was the perfect woman for him.

Yet, there was the matter of her dim-witted spouse.

It angered him at how lousy of a husband Greg was. It was clear to Gold that he saw Isabelle as some kind of trophy, always pointing out how beautiful she was and how when the time came… they would have beautiful and strong babies.

That part made him want to vomit, but it was other things about the other man that bothered him. Bad enough he decided to stop helping in Game of Thorns. He figured he deserved some time off for making the shop profitable again and left it in the hands of his wife and their employees. Once he discovered the joy of leisure, he encouraged Isabelle to spend more time at the shop. It was more of a win-win since Isabelle could have her privacy in the shop and the lovers had a new place to engage in.

As much as he wanted to take revenge on the worthless twat, Isabelle assured him this was for the best. Greg was slowly letting go his caveman perspective on the notion of a proper wife and giving her more of an opportunity to work in her father's shop the way she wanted to. In turn it gave her some free time for her to hang out "with the girls" when Greg wanted to start Poker Night with his buddies at the house.

Of course "with the girls" meant more time with Gold, but she would balance it out by going out with her friends too.

While seeing his lover more often did appease the beast somewhat, Gold wanted to do more, especially bodily harm to Greg. As soon as Isabelle was free of him, Gold wouldn't think twice about paying Greg a visit… or two. Hell, maybe he would make it a new routine of his. If the boy knew what was best for him, he'd keep his mouth shut. And if word did break out… well, Gold had enough money and influence in this God forsaken town to be let off with a mere slap to the wrist.

Oh yes… it was a nice thought that helped him sleep at night.

xxXXxx

Now, sleep was proving to be elusive. If he slept… he would dream of her and his past hopes for the future. Truly… he was the one that was the twat and if only he was able to inform his past self of the long anguished road that was ahead of him, then perhaps, breaking it off with her would have been easier.

Then again, he was a stubborn son of a bitch and when his eyes were set on something worth having… well, he had to have it. Maybe he wasn't so much different from Greg in that respect, but at least he knew how to keep a woman happy and coming back for more.

He blamed it on his lust.

Yes! That was it. Lust… pure and simple. He confused lust with _that other emotion_.

Okay, he found the answer to his predicament and the only explanation for his desire to be with Isabelle Hunter. She was beautiful, had the right curves, and made the most glorious sounds when she was aroused and in the throes of passion…

_Fuck_.

Looking distastefully at his raging erection, Gold cursed her once more. She was more than human… she was a living succubus. She wormed her way into his mind, screwing him even more with her sumptuous flesh and kissable mouth, not to mention her mesmerizing blue irises that a man could easily drown in and die happily.

Dropping his bottle beside him, Gold tried to think of her betrayal and that viperous tongue of hers, but instead his arousal became even harder and one glance to the staircase where they first had sex… oh bloody hell.

His grip was painfully tight, and he squeezed his eyes, as he let his senses take over…

She was there, spread out before him, her voice and eyes begging for his touch, the only relief to the raging fire within her. Her floral perfume, the rosy scent that made it difficult for him to walk past the florist shop or anyplace with flowers that would instantly remind him of his seductive nymph, filled the air, flooding his nostrils as he kneeled in front of her… a lowly servant coming to worship this brilliant goddess.

The musky and sweet taste that was Isabelle's very essence was dripping on his tongue as he played with her clit, his fingers and tongue twirling and plunging in as far as he could. He could feel her thighs spasm around him and she was close… so close that he could practically swallow the impending explosion. Then all at once she tensed, her voice screaming his name to the rooftops, as she released another gush of the sweet ambrosia that he eagerly feasted on.

Only he could have that power… only he could completely unravel her and make her sob until she could not speak any more.

And with one more soft gasp of his name had Gold coming all over his hand and making a mess of his trousers.

With a disgruntled growl, he reached for tissues to clean himself up. He was weak. So incredibly weak that he could still have a powerful orgasm with thoughts of her.

God… how he _hated_ the Aussie bitch more than ever.

xXx

Then came the day that Gold was able to make half his fantasy come true. Isabelle came into his shop to tell him that Greg was going on a camping trip with a couple of friends for the weekend and she decided to take those two days off from the shop to for a trip of her own.

She had mentioned it as dispassionately as she could… even glancing at him through her lashes shyly.

"If you don't mind that is…" she said.

"What?" he asked, uncertain he heard her correctly.

"We could spend the weekend together, unless you have plans or—"

His heart skipped a beat and while he longed to shout "bloody hell yes!" He coolly responded, "I have to check my calendar, but I'm certain my weekend is free."

Her wide smile was all the confirmation he needed that… yes she did want this and she was truly asking to spend a whole weekend with him.

And this was the perfect opportunity for them to be finally sequestered privately without any interruptions from the real world. Gold wanted to take advantage of the situation, and yes his home could provide that privacy, he was thinking of a place that was much more secluded and that no one… not even the mayor knew of its existence.

They waited until the evening to leave so they could both close up shop. Gold waited for her in an alley with their bags already packed safely in the trunk. They figured the cover of darkness would be their best ally to keep this clandestine getaway a secret. Once securely inside, he didn't tell Isabelle where he was taking her and decided to make it a surprise by handing her a blindfold.

Just as giddy as he was, she trustingly tied the blindfold in place. She had been anticipating this trip all week long like he did and she knew Gold wouldn't disappoint her.

To play it extra safe, she kept her head down as he drove out of town until they were out of the town limits. Once they were out of view, Gold told her she could lift her head up and they continued their drive without any fear of someone catching them together.

She told Greg she would be spending time with her friends, maybe catch up on some reading to pass the time.

"Won't he check up on you?" Gold questioned.

Isabelle shook her head. "Oh no! He's always so focused on the outdoors and his pals that the last thing he would do is call home. Also he'll be plastered I bet so he won't remember if he tried."

Satisfied that they will have an uninterrupted weekend, Gold arrived at his cabin and told Isabelle she could remove the blindfold.

As soon as the piece of cloth was gone, her face lit up at the sight. Inwardly, he was pleased that she approved of it.

It was a traditional log-cabin style, but it was quite spacious and had a built-in fireplace too. And the best thing about it was that the cabin was far off from any hiking trail so no trespassers would find them and trees surrounded it so it was difficult to see from a distance.

Gold had pulled his car around the back of the cabin where a drooping branch full of leaves shielded the vehicle. Getting out of the car, Gold limped his way to the passenger door and held it opened for Isabelle.

Smiling brightly, she got out and thanked him with a playful curtsey. He found himself in an impish mood and played along by making an extravagant sweeping motion with his left arm as he bent at the waist in a bow. This earned him a cheerful giggle as they brought their bags inside.

Preparing in advance, Gold cleaned the cabin up so it would be nice and tidy for Isabelle, even picking some wildflowers and filling it in a vase for one of the tables by the window. She went over and sniffed one of the flowers, a relaxed expression on her visage.

He then went and gave her the grand tour, albeit a short one.

The cabin was equipped with its own modest kitchen—a stove with a microwave attached above, refrigerator, sink, and drying rack for dishes. There was a bathroom with a shower stall and a master bedroom, and of course, the main room with the fireplace, a couple of chairs and a bookshelf complete with all kinds of books and textbooks.

"I love it!" Isabelle breathed. "It's so cozy and quiet. I would find it tempting to stay and not go back to Storybrooke."

"Aye," he agreed. "It certainly is."

They unpacked their belongings, and to their amusement, they filled up the closet without intruding on the other's clothing. Gold couldn't fight back the pleased smile that it looked so right with their clothes hanging side by side.

Once that was finished, Isabelle wanted to explore the woods but it was too late and there was another nightly activity they were aching to engage in.

The next morning proved to be a promising day of warm weather and bright sunlight that Isabelle mentioned the idea of exploring. Not being much of a nature person himself, Gold found it daunting with his crippled leg and all, but this was his weekend with Isabelle and he didn't want to ruin it with a petty argument. They dressed into comfortable clothes for walking, and to his added delight, he noticed a little streak of color appearing on her face as well as a flicker of hunger in her eyes when she saw him in a casual outfit.

She only seen him in a suit and tie and more than likely she assumed that was probably the only kind of clothing he owned. But Gold did own a pair of jeans and donning that with a loose fitting white shirt… his whole aura changed. He wasn't just Mr. Gold the landlord, the pawnshop owner. He was just Gold.

They enjoyed a refreshing walk outdoors, even finding a path that took them to the nearby lake. Just like the cabin, this spot was also well-hidden and so the two lovers took a break by sitting on one of the large rocks and admiring the view and fresh air. They talked about whatever came to mind—his latest collection of antiques, the recent delivery of flowers just in time for the end of the year school dance. She even told him about the book she finished reading called _A Long Fatal Love Chase_.

"I was so surprised by the twists and turns in this story. I mean, it was practically Faustian, and poor Rosamond had no idea what she was getting herself into when she agreed to marry Philip Tempest. She thought he would free her from her boredom, but she ends up on the run for her life as he chases after her, claiming its love! After reading this, I couldn't believe Louisa May Alcott of _Little Women _wrote this! Then again, the story was ahead of its time and would be considered too scandalous for any girl to read."

"Sounds fascinating," Gold said. "I take it this Tempest fellow is really the villain and not the romantic hero?"

"Yes," she said, nodding. "You start off thinking he's the hero, but there's this scene where he's standing by this portrait that reminded Rosamond of Mephistopheles and then you know there is going to be nothing but trouble. Ironically, she sees the resemblance but still agrees to marry him. I wanted to feel bad, and at first, I didn't but as the story progressed… I couldn't help but feel for her when she realized how much in danger she actually was in. You know what? You do kind of remind me of Tempest…"

"Oh I do?" he said with interest. "Well, perhaps, you should have heeded your own warning. After all, you did agree to spend the weekend with me."

"I think it was me who did the asking," she teased. "But you do have a point. Then again… maybe like Rosamond I'm looking for adventure and I know you won't disappoint."

"Careful dearie," he warned with a wag of his finger. "You are treading in dangerous waters if you think you can be flippant to disregard in whose company you're in."

"I'll take my chances," she whispered. "I'm a big girl who can take care of herself. Besides… I have a secret weapon."

"Oh you do, do you?" His brown eyes glittered with merriment, but there was a glint of arousal in his orbs as Isabelle sashayed over to him, her arms coming out to pin him at his side.

With her lips inches away from his, Gold found his eyes half-lidded as he stared rather interestedly at the way her pink tongue darted out and swept over her bottom lip. He could feel his cock twitch and just as she brought herself closer to him, her rosy and vanilla scent tickling his nostrils, Izzy started to tickle him along his ribs.

The gesture caught him off-guard and Gold almost jumped out of his skin. Yet, he couldn't stop himself from laughing as she ran her fingers over his sides, her infectious laughter joining in.

"Who would have thought you would be so ticklish?" Isabelle mused aloud as Gold called out for mercy.

"I swear I will deny it," he told her, trying to give her his strictest glare, but failing as his lips continued to twitch in a smile.

"Don't worry," she assured him. "Your secret is safe with me… until I need to leave the country for espionage reasons. Then I'm going to have to blackmail you to help me."

"Let's hope that never happens," he chuckled.

They decided to head back when their stomachs began to grumble. Arm in arm, they began their trek back to the cabin. Gold reached the conclusion that nature wasn't as bad as he initially thought.

xxXXxx

Gold toyed with the idea of driving up to his cabin and setting it on fire. After all, that was the setting that ended up being the catalyst to his suffering. However he couldn't deny that the property was worth keeping for its seclusion and it was his only sanctuary from Storybrooke.

So he decided the cabin shouldn't be punished for his mistakes. But he rarely visited it now, except for when he truly needed to escape. Like today for example.

Today was a bad day.

He saw _them _at Granny's while he ate his lunch. He ignored them, just like he always did, but the infuriating child kept looking back at him.

Staring… watching…

_With his eyes_.

He couldn't stand it. He didn't like seeing them together, even more so, he didn't like seeing the child.

His chest tightened and his breath coming in short pants, Gold left the rest of his meal untouched and threw down enough bills to cover the meal and tip. Then came the difficult part…

_He had to walk past them_.

Fucking woman. She did it purposefully, he bet. There she stood by the counter, talking and laughing with Granny, the child looking quizzically over her shoulder and _at him_. If the little life ruiner could speak… he knew what she would be saying, but then to his horror, the child opened her mouth and the shape of her lips meant only possible word.

No. No… No he was not who she thought he was. He was nothing to them and they were nothing to him.

But she closed her mouth and tears seemed to gather in those brown eyes and he had to get out of there as quick as possible.

He ignored the looks he got as he moved towards the door, never once looking over at them, and as he entered the fresh, cool air he almost laughed in relief. But he made the mistake in looking back and the disconcerting expression on Isabelle's face as well as the child's confusion followed him to his car and from there, he blindly drove towards the cabin.

By the time he arrived, he wasn't sure why he decided to come here of all places. Why this place of misery?

He closed his eyes and he saw the little girl and something in him lurched as he fell to his feet and threw up his dinner.

Covering his face with his hands, Gold moaned, "No! No! She's not mine!"

But those eyes… why did she have to have that shade of brown? Was it some kind of punishment that God devised for the monster that he was? Was it meant to remind him that he was indeed human and a severely flawed one? Was it supposed to mean she was his hope, his salvation? To remind him that he could care, that he could lo—

No…

He cast a spiteful look at the cabin, destruction dancing in his eyes. Until he remembered he kept a good stash of vodka in there. Well, that changed everything as he limped inside and grabbed the vodka, all the while muttering to himself.

"I'm not… no… she's not mine. It's in my head. She doesn't belong to me. No one belongs to me. A monster cannot create life."

It started off as a bad day, but it ended on a good note as Gold passed out in a dreamless slumber and got the best sleep he had in ages. In the morning he will remember his sins, but for now… the blackout was a blessing.

xXx

The weekend passed all too quickly for his liking, but there wasn't a single moment he would take back either.

Not only did he have Isabelle all day and night with him, but Gold was able to see her in a new light… the Isabelle he wanted to live with. They cooked their meals together, fed each other, and cuddled on the sofa with a fire roaring and Isabelle reading aloud from one of his books. They hadn't made love since they stepped into the cabin, not that they had to.

This was a different kind of intimacy spent and one that Gold found himself enjoying thoroughly. He didn't have this type of companionship with Maria and it was nice that they found something to do that didn't involve yelling or fighting like he did with his ex-wife.

When Sunday morning came, Gold sensed something was wrong the moment they woke. Isabelle was in his arms, her head tucked beneath his chin, but he could feel her tensing as the sun streamed through the window.

"It's morning," she murmured dejectedly.

"It is."

"We have to go back."

He could only nod, not able to voice his assent, as he understood why her mood was sullen. She tilted her face towards him, her blue eyes shining with emotion.

"I want you to know… this was the best weekend ever. If I could turn back the clock… I would."

"Me too," he whispered fervently.

"Do we have to go back?" she asked. "Couldn't we stay here forever?"

"I wish we could, sweetheart, but we have to return to our lives."

"What did you call me?" Isabelle sat up a little, her teeth worrying her lip.

Thinking he offended her, Gold tried to backtrack, but Isabelle stopped him with a finger over his mouth.

"Say it again."

She wasn't offended… she was thrilled!

Relaxing, Gold smiled. "Sweetheart."

She shivered as the word rolled off his tongue. "I've never been a 'sweetheart' before. I like it."

"Well, _sweetheart_," he emphasized, rolling her over on her back as he came to rest atop on her with his leg nudged between hers. "I find myself liking it as well."

He ghosted kisses over her face, her nose, and chin, purposely skipping her lips as she tried to move and catch his. Isabelle pouted as he darted out of the way, but feeling bad, he made up for it by trailing kisses down her throat and finding that spot of hers that she loved… Gold kept his lips pressed there as she trembled beneath him.

It wasn't long before she was ready for him and Gold took his time lavishing her with gentle kisses and sweeping his tongue over the sensitive spots that made her gasp and squirm and sigh his name. Knowing he denied her long enough, he dragged his mouth back up her chest to her mouth, closing her lips with his as they kissed lazily for several minutes.

When Isabelle began to arch into him, he knew it was time to end the wait. With her help, he pushed his pajama pants down enough to release himself and her bottoms were also pushed off as he slowly penetrated her in shallow thrusts.

He wanted to take it slowly, savor these precious minutes left, and as she clung to him, her breath washing over his face, Gold realized they were making love. She must have recognized it too because there was wonderment in her cobalt orbs and a single tear slid down her face. Just before a second one could join its twin, Gold brushed his lips over her cheek, his tongue catching the teardrop.

She was so beautiful and the sunlight only enhanced her beauty as her hair fanned over the pillow, framing her heart-shaped face. It would be so easy to stay like this and live in this paradise of their making, but alas, it wasn't meant to be when her breathing quickened and her nails dug into his bare flesh.

Isabelle was close, too close by the distress in her expression. Gold moved swiftly, not wanting her to fall without him, and as he delivered one more punctuated thrust… they both moaned as they came together.

Coming down from the high was too unbearable and as reality began to trickle back into their senses; Isabelle started to shake as she sobbed quietly. Alarmed, Gold lifted his head and she was shaking her head, but she refused to let him go.

"No! I-I can't," she wept. "I told myself not to but it happened and I'm so sorry Gold. I'm sorry…"

"Isabelle," he said, brushing the tears from her eye as he cupped her cheek. "Tell me what's wrong."

"That's the thing. It isn't wrong but at the same time it is."

He didn't understand what she was trying to say until she found the courage needed to blurt out:

"I-I'm in love with you. I think I have been for a while and—"

"Shh," he hushed softly, his own smile threatening to break out across his features. "I love you too Isabelle."

The look on her face was awestruck as she realized he felt the same way. "Y-you do?"

"How could I not?" he said. "You're one amazing woman and I still find it hard to believe that you're real and not some dream." Gazing at her sheepishly, Gold added, "I think you could do better than a man like me, but I'm a selfish bastard, and I don't want to lose you."

"Gold…" She cupped her hand over his, her lips kissing his palm. "You have no idea how happy I am, but…"

"I know," he interjected, his smile fading. "But Isabelle… I don't think I can take much more of this. I know you're married to Greg, but surely you can see that it's wrong. _He _is wrong for you. We can have this weekend for the rest of our lives, don't you see? We can be like Rosamond and Tempest and have those adventures, just the two of us."

Her lips curved in a sad smile, her laugh ironic. "You have no idea what kind of ending they had."

"It doesn't matter," he persisted. "We can be together. Isabelle, you love me and I love you… stop denying our happy ending."

Isabelle's breath hitched as a genuine smile bloomed. "All right. I will tell Greg it's over."

Gold said a silent prayer to God above for letting his wish come true.

"I'll make you happy Isabelle," he swore, kissing her soundly. "I promise. I won't make you miserable."

xxXXxx

_Love…_

It wasn't love Gold realized. Love wouldn't have turned out the way it did. Love wouldn't have had this sad ending.

No, love was a child's fairy tale. The emotion didn't exist. People like to fancy that love could happen and that everything will turn out right in some kind of magical way. Love was a fallacy that could make monsters into men… that love could cure any curse and allow people to endure any trials they might face.

He was a fool. And he fell for the trap that was laid out for him. He told her that he loved her, and she told him that she loved him. She told him she would leave her husband to be with him. She told him that they could be happy together.

Well, did she? Did she do as she promised?

At least the voices shut up for now.

xXx

The ride back was quiet, but it was a happy kind of quiet as they held hands while he drove. They couldn't stop smiling like a couple of love-struck teenagers and the pressure of their hands interlaced made it all the more real. As soon as Gold was about to approach the town's limits, Isabelle ducked.

Back in the cabin they had discussed they wouldn't reveal to the world their relationship until Isabelle talked to Greg. She promised Gold she would call him to let him know how it went, and he was already mentally counting down the minutes when they could finally be together.

He drove to his shop and pulled in the back so Isabelle could walk home. She grabbed her bags and kissed him.

"You know what? My birthday is coming up soon," she told him.

"Really? What does the birthday girl want then?"

She pulled on her lip in a secretive grin. "I already got my present. You."

Gold couldn't prevent the slap-happy grin from invading his features as she gave him one last kiss.

Once she was gone, Gold hopped back in his car and made his way home where he could wait by the phone. No doubt her hubby would be upset and she would need a place to stay and he would be more than happy to offer his home to his lover. He only wished he could be there to watch that dumb stricken look wiped from his face when Isabelle told him that she loved Gold.

As he turned on his street, his gaze narrowed when he spotted the mayor loitering in front of his house. His knuckles whitened as he clenched his jaw, but he refused to let Regina ruin his good mood, regardless of whatever favor she wanted of him.

He stepped out just as Regina stood from sitting on his porch and strolled carefree towards him.

"Good morning Mr. Gold."

"Morning Madam Mayor." He kept his cane in front of him, his steely brown eyes leveled at her to indicate his annoyance. "Certainly you have better things to do other than stalking my house."

Regina chuckled. "Well, I wanted to check to make sure everything was all right. I haven't seen you in town the last couple days."

"That's because, dearie, I decided to take a mini vacation. And last time I checked, I didn't need to get your permission."

"I didn't mean any insult. Just concerned." There was something about her smirk that didn't well with him. She had this uncanny ability to know exactly what was going on in Storybrooke. "Speaking of concern, I'm worried about one of our residents. You might know her—Izzy Hunter."

As soon as the slithery serpent mentioned his sweetheart's name, Gold's jaw locked. "And why in the world would you think I would know her?"

"Her father owned the florist shop that you collect the rent on, do you not? Since Mr. French's health started deteriorating, I know that his dutiful daughter moved back with her husband in toll. Now that they took it over, they owe you the rent."

Not sure what game she was getting at, Gold decided to feign remembrance. "Ah, yes. Mrs. Hunter… very accommodating couple. Haven't heard a wisp of complaint from them. Although, I'm wondering why you should be concerned when the object of rent does not pertain to you."

"It's not the rent Mr. Gold," Regina said, her smirk growing wider. "Rather the lady. I know her father's death has taken its toll on her. Trust me, I know all about it. It isn't easy losing a beloved parent, especially a father. And even a sensible woman such as Mrs. Hunter isn't quite immune from making reckless decisions."

"Such as?"

"Well, for starters, rethinking her life. Taking risks she wouldn't normally undertake just to feel something other than the gaping black hole in her heart. She's young and the whole world is one exciting place that after experiencing death she wants to live life to the fullest. Carpe diem."

"I doubt Mrs. Hunter would do something that drastic," Gold said, though the back of his mind was starting to nurse the seed Regina planted. Wasn't Isabelle doing exactly that by leaving her husband for him? But she had good reason… she loved Gold, not her husband. "Besides, it sounds too much like what you and Sheriff Graham are doing."

Regina bristled, her glare an answer in itself.

But Gold continued. "Though, I fail to see why I need to be informed about this. As her landlord, I suppose, I will keep a closer eye in case one of her life decisions results in forfeiting the deal I made with her father."

"As a landlord I doubt you have anything to worry. As a lover… well… that's an entirely different story."

An icy chill gripped his spine, but Gold refused to give her the satisfaction that she affected him. Without blinking, he raised his shoulders indifferently. "You know very well Regina that after my poor excuse of a marriage ended that I wouldn't be stupid enough to attempt something like that again. Not even adding that Mrs. Hunter is certainly not my type and too young for me. But rest assured, Mayor Mills, I will not pursue Mrs. Hunter to be the future ex Mrs. Gold."

"Right." She gave him a sweeping motion of her lashes, not quite believing him, but she didn't say another word as she went on her way.

Gold let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and staggered back against his Cadillac. That had been too close. Much too close for comfort in her presence. And the fact that she been almost spot on too in suspecting his and Isabelle's relationship. He didn't want to know how she could have possibly known since they had been very careful in when they met and the limited location of their liaisons. He knew the mayor had her spies and paid henchmen to do her dirty work. He hoped that part of it wasn't keeping an eye on his sex life.

He quickly grabbed his things and went into the house, slamming the door for good effect to imply his vacation did not remove his surly mood. Yet all the while he was gnawing at the bit that the news would get out on someone else's terms and not their own.

As he anxiously paced the house, he knew the only remedy to soothe his erratic mind was for Isabelle's calm voice telling him that she was at last free.

xxXXxx

He had to make it stop. He had to make that niggling, irritating conscience of his to quit whispering in his ear. It was the only way that might ease his pain and he was tired of seeing how he was the only one being affected.

He decided to have the meeting in his shop. This was his territory and this was where he lay down the rules. And this will certainly end his silly infatuation with her once and for all.

The deed for Game of Thorns as well as the contract that laid out the finest points and terms of the contract and loan was on the counter. That was the old contract.

The newer one he written up and notarized was already waiting to be signed. His signature was dried on the parchment, but there was one signature that was required and she was running late.

This didn't bode well for his temper as his nails drummed against the glass. His message specifically requested her presence at his shop at noon and it was already pushing five minutes after.

Finally, the bell chimed and he glanced up to find the source of his torment standing before him. Isabelle Hunter was lovely than ever and it was evident she took her time in primping herself to look her best. Of course, the older Gold would have said she was perfect the way she was but she did this to please him. Now, the new Gold, the more awakened and alerted Gold, saw through the façade and her pitiful attempts to look alluring was disgusting.

Even more so… not only was she trying to make her appearance appealing, she brought the other part of his grief.

"You couldn't find a babysitter?" he asked with obvious displeasure.

"I was surprised by your call. I didn't think you wanted me—" she began to say but he silenced her with his hand raised.

"I don't have time for this Mrs. Hunter as I am a very busy man and you were the one that was running late so I will make this appointment brief. The contract that your father signed is due to expire and I have drafted a new one on your behalf."

"Expired?" she frowned. "That can't be. We had it paid off—"

"It's more of a slight overlook on my part, I'm afraid," Gold answered smoothly. "Indeed, you and your husband had paid off the loan for the old contract, but if you noticed… the contract pertains exclusively to your father. Any new owner of Game of Thorns must sign a new contract with me in order to keep the shop running. Considering your mourning, I felt it better not to mention it at the time, and it slipped my mind as you could imagine, until I was looking it over and realized that you are currently running the shop illegally."

The color drained from her face as he went on speaking.

"The shop doesn't belong to you Mrs. Hunter. At least not in the legal of terms and while I'm the last person who would wish to get the proper authorities to handle this… I felt it best to rectify this situation between us. So here's the new contract which states you and your husband as legal owners to Game of Thorns as well as the rent stipulation and etcetera."

Isabelle crept closer to the counter to look at the contract he pushed towards her. She perused it and immediately her gaze snapped at him.

"What is this?" she demanded, her voice shaking despite herself. "You're raising our rent fifteen percent?"

"I thought it was _kinder_ of me to go with fifteen since you are raising a child. Although, if you prefer… I could go with my original intent of twenty," he replied coldly with an indifferent stare. "Since the shop is doing remarkably well, I assumed this shouldn't come as a surprise. After all, my money invested the creation of the shop and it's only fair I collect what is owed to me."

She pressed her lips together and read the rest of it. Everything else looked all right with the exception of the rent increase until the very bottom that stated that if either she or her husband failed to pay on time then they could forfeit Game of Thorns to Mr. Gold's control. It didn't elaborate how long it will be until Mr. Gold closed them, but she surmised he would do it when it suited him, which would add to any stress they would face knowing that closing was on the horizon. While business was good, they had their slow moments and if they had one particular slow month… Game of Thorns would be shut down forever.

"Here you go." Gold handed her his pen and she didn't accept it.

"I won't agree to these terms. This is ridiculous that you will take the shop if we fall short one payment. How's that even legal?"

"It's well within my rights as a landlord and property owner," Gold rejoined. "You have your name on the lease claiming you will run it as stated in the contract and I have the right to take it if I so wished. And honestly, dearie, you have no right to argue since you have no claims to the shop. So either you sign or I will have to call Sheriff Graham. It's your choice."

"Can I think it over? Talk to my husband?"

"Oh no, my dear. This needs to be resolved now and if you don't… well, Game of Thorns last day will be today."

She gaped at him in disbelief and astonishment. Who was this man? This could not be the man she once knew… the man she…

"Tick tock dearie. I don't have all day," he snarled, his tone disturbing the child at her side who began to cry. "Now this… really Mrs. Hunter, you should know better than to bring a child into a business meeting."

Glaring at him, Isabelle snatched the pen from his hand and scribbled her name quickly. There was no getting around this and the last thing she wanted to do was lose her father's shop. And the smug bastard that he was… he knew how much this shop meant to her and he used it against her.

Smiling, Gold glance it over and was satisfied to see her signature on the line. "Thank you Mrs. Hunter. I knew you would see it my way. You are free to run Game of Thorns without repercussions now."

Her facial expression was saying more than what she could voice aloud. She picked up her daughter and stormed out of the shop, the bell nearly jumping off its hook at the intensity of the slam behind.

He got what he wanted, but why did this little act of vengeance do nothing to stop the tearing of his heart?

xXx

The call didn't come that day or night. Nor did it the next. Or the next after that.

Gold became more restless and apprehensive as time stretched on without a single word or message from his lover. He refused to let Regina get to him, but his treacherous mind was whispering all kinds of doubts and that Isabelle changed her mind… After all, why would she want to willingly be saddled with the likes of him when she could be with a younger and handsome man? Then he would remember her deal she made with Greg and the insecurity was effectively stamped out until the next moment when the unknowing darkness crept in.

He was also neglecting the shop and knew he should make an appearance of some kind, but when it appeared that Isabelle wouldn't be calling any time soon… Gold swallowed his pride and drove to his shop to open it. When he did, he still kept a watchful eye on his phone in case she decided to call here and not his house. Part of him was hoping she was waiting for the right opportunity to call and not that something bad happened to her.

Greg looked pretty harmless, but there was no accounting on what he might do in a rage if his wife told him she was up and leaving him for the local pariah.

When it didn't seem the shop's phone was going to ring either, Gold busied himself with menial tasks around the store. Now and then his eyes would drift over to the phone, but it remained silent.

So when the bell in front of the shop chimed, Gold started. The door was the last thing he expected to hear. However, hope pounded in his chest as he moved as quickly as he could from the backroom. His façade lit up as he soon as he caught sight of his dear sweetheart.

"Isabelle…" He limped towards her, throwing his good arm around her shoulder and hugged her. "I thought you were going to call me sweetheart. You had me worried there."

So caught up in his joy at seeing her, he failed to notice at how she barely returned the embrace. It wasn't until he pulled back to gaze upon her lovely features that a frown slant across his brow at her troubled look.

"Isabelle?"

"Oh Gold…" she sighed, her lashes drooping. "I'm sorry I hadn't called and I didn't mean to worry you it's just—" she took a deep breath and looked him squarely in the face and what he saw caused his heart to drop to the pit of his stomach. "I haven't talked to Greg. Not yet. Every time I started to something happened and I had to postpone it. And now… I found out Greg's throwing me a birthday party."

Gold stepped back as his stoic expression slipped into place. This wasn't what he wanted to hear… she was supposed to end it with her husband so they could be together. He refused to show his pain and grief in front of her, but it wasn't helping that she looked as bereft as he felt.

"I promise I would talk to him and I will," Isabelle promised again, reaching for his hand. Holding the listless extremity with both of her hands, she pressed it tightly over her heart. "I love you Gold. You're the one I want to be with… the one I'm choosing."

His eyes slipped closed at her declaration of love and while his heart soared that she hadn't changed her mind… it still stung that it hadn't been done.

"I will talk to Greg once the party is over. If you're not busy… I would love it if you came too. It's going to be at the Rabbit Hole at eight this Friday."

"I'll try." Gold gave her a short grin, all the while knowing his presence would dampen the party more than anything. But she returned his grin with a brighter smile and she was gone before he could process it.

xXx

He told himself he wouldn't go. It didn't matter that he received an invitation from the birthday girl herself… The Rabbit Hole was his least favorite place in Storybrooke, a less than glamorous bar that played loud music and encouraged reckless and stupid behavior from its patrons.

Of course, Greg would have picked it for his wife's birthday.

As Friday night rolled along, Gold tried to do everything he could to convince himself not to go. He had a number of reasons not to, but his mind refused to let him forget that it was Isabelle's birthday and she wanted him… _picked_ him to be with. Not to mention if he was there… then he could tell Greg himself that it was over between him and Isabelle. Or… maybe seeing Gold would give Isabelle the courage to tell her husband to screw himself.

It was that reason alone that Gold wound up at the bar close to ten, hoping the party was still going and it was… the guests were sloshed or on their way as they drank, danced foolishly, and attempted to play billiards. Then again, it was difficult to tell who was there for Isabelle and who wasn't.

Surprisingly, no one seemed to notice the unpopular landlord coming in. Not that he wanted to be spotted in a hellhole place like this… but Gold kept to the shadows by the wall as he searched for his sweetheart and her daft husband. Every brunette with long hair he saw was not her. Nor could he catch the sound of her lilting accent or lovely laugh.

He did stop one girl as she almost stumbled into him on her way to the restroom.

"Did you see where Isabelle Hunter went?" he asked, almost shouting over the inferno noise called music.

The girl stared sluggishly at him and ripped her arm away from his hand. "Shhhe's left with Greeg."

Gold could hardly fight back the smile as he turned his back on the bar and left for his car. Isabelle left… that must mean she had enough and was more than likely speaking to Greg at this moment.

He sped home, not caring if Graham would pull him over or not. He got home and sat on the couch, his body drumming with the excitement that it was over. He was going to be with his love and all he waited for was her to call him…

xxXXxx

Once he polished the bottle of scotch, Gold whipped his arm back and flung the bottle. The glass shattering against the wall was like a million little bells going off at once and it made the ache in his heart even worse.

He contemplated throwing the chipped tea cup. It was nestled in his hand and all he had to do was throw it like the scotch bottle, but a part of him churned at the thought of its destruction. A voice of a whisper ghosted in his ear that it was the wrong thing to do and he would be damned if he did it. Despite his booze soaked brain, the idea of the cup broken was sobering enough.

He set it carefully back on the table—away from the other objects that were victim to his rampaging fury. But as hard as he fought to forget… the more he remembered that day when Isabelle came to his shop after her birthday. She was in tears and as she spoke… all her words were rushed, her accent thick, but he could clearly make out "drunk… sex with Greg… wasn't thinking…"

She apologized—_profusely_, insisting she didn't know what possessed her to do something so despicable. And she truly was sorry but right at that moment a switch went off in Gold that was anything but understandable or forgivable.

His language… he was embarrassed to use such words in front of her, but he wasn't thinking. It was like the version of Gold he only wanted her to see had shut down and in place was the Gold that his tenants feared… the one that showed little mercy for mankind. And the one that earned him the nickname "the monster of Storybrooke."

Then came the moment he had been dreaded to hear after that horrible news…

"_Gold… I know you don't want to see me or talk to me but I need you to listen. I'm—I'm pregnant. I don't know what to do. The baby could be Greg's but it also could be yours…" Isabelle stood there in his shop, the skin under her eyes was red and puffy from the endless tears she shed. Yet, she calmly remained still, her lips pressed firmly together, her expression an immovable shield to guard her from whatever that would come from his mouth._

"_Please say something. Anything."_

_He was silent, his mind mulling over her confession. Pregnant… a baby… It should have filled him with joy, but due to her betrayal and his broken heart, he could not find it within himself to love the unborn fetus growing in her. _

"_That's rather unfortunate to hear dearie," he said, his tone indifferent and cold. "But if you think it's mine then I will gladly arrange for the bank to put in—say—a thousand in your account for your trouble. With the money your husband has it should be more than enough to support the child so I won't offer anything more or less."_

"_Wha-what?" she sputtered, astounded at what he was saying. "I'm not asking you for your money! That's the last thing I want! I wanted you to know that you could be the father."_

"_So I could do exactly what?" he retorted. "Be in the child's life? No, I don't think so. A child was never in the plans for me so it's all on you." _

"_I'll leave him. Gold, I made a mistake and I know I'm paying dearly for it, but I want our child to grow up with both his parents. His real parents. We can be together and I know it will be a long time before you forgive me, but at least… let me make it up. We can go to your cabin and—"_

"_And what?" he interrupted. "I'm sorry dearie but you have to face facts. That moment of our 'courtship' is over and done with."_

"_What are you saying?" she whispered._

"_I'm saying that I no longer want you anymore. You were a good fuck when it was necessary."_

"_That's not true… You don't mean it…" Her blue eyes were wide in horror._

"_Don't I?" He shuffled close to her face so their noses were almost touching. "Frankly, dearie, you were so desperate to be saved that you forgotten a very important tidbit: I'm a heartless beast. I got what I wanted and now… now you have baggage that I simply don't want no part in or dirty myself with."_

_He ignored her flinch and the way her chin quivered, but she kept her brave front. Oh, he was looking forward to watch her break so he added the final blow._

"_I'm going to ask you this only once—leave my shop and don't ever come back here again or I will tell everyone about us, your father, and I will take the flower shop and burn it to the ground. Don't mistake yourself in thinking I won't. I have a lot of power in this town and it won't take much to have you, your husband, and that brat tossed out of here. Do I make myself clear?"_

_He hit his target as she betrayed herself with a lone tear trailing down. _

"_Perfectly," she murmured._

Her pregnancy was a blur to him. He did remember that Isabelle did keep true to her word, or as well as she could in a small town. They didn't cross each other's paths unless they had to and they barely made eye contact when they were out in public. She was hardly alone, always with a friend or her husband. But even the husband wasn't around as much as she would have liked as he spent almost every night at the Rabbit Hole.

His celebration of his wife's pregnancy continued well after the birth. However, when they were together, they were the epitome of happiness and Gold was left with the feeling to smash something when Greg would set his hand on his wife's stomach.

He got what he wanted, but why did he feel like he was the one that lost?

So every night he would spend it by drinking himself into a mindless stupor and torturing himself with the pleasant memories of the past. It hurt _too much _knowing they were lies and that she never truly cared for him. Even the thought that her child could possibly be his did cross his mind once or twice. At first, he was adamant that it wasn't possible and she was mistaken in thinking he was the father.

Monsters couldn't father children.

Then her water broke and it wasn't long before the town knew that Izzy Hunter was in labor.

He told himself he would not go to the hospital. Not that he would be welcomed… but there was no way he was going to go to check to see if what Isabelle said was true.

No fucking way.

But his human side pushed him and before Gold realized it… he was driving to the hospital and heading towards the nursery.

A girl… a perfect, beautiful little girl.

Gold had the chance to look at her while everyone was busy with their patients. There was no denying who the tiny bundle wrapped tightly in her pink blanket belonged to. He could see the dark hair covering her little head—no doubt the color of her mother's—and when her eyes opened… he swallowed hard to see that babe had brown eyes… _his _brown eyes.

She stared right at him, didn't even blink, but it was enough to unnerve him.

He quickly left the hospital so no one could see the ferocious Mr. Gold in tears. He waited until he was in the safety of the walls of his home that he broke down and wept. And after he spent hours crying his eyes out… he reached for the whiskey and scotch and that was it.

_Lilianna _was her name.

He whispered it brokenly once he heard the name in town. It was a pretty name, but not one that Gold would have picked, though as soon as the thought entered… he took great strides to forget that he was the one to reject her mother.

And her…

One quiet day, Gold was baffled to hear the bell chime as Isabelle Hunter stood there in the doorway. She was holding her child to her breast, conflict in her eyes.

He didn't say a word and taking his silence as a sign… she stepped forward.

"Gold," her voice croaked, the name sounding strange in the still air. It had been a long time since he heard her use his name and he wasn't sure how to react.

"I know you didn't want to see me again, but I thought—well, I think you should know—" She trembled at her last words and as she was trying to decide what would be the best way to reveal her news, Gold beat her to the punch.

"I know Mrs. Hunter that you have baby in your arms and I do recall that I told you—"

"Yes I know," she interrupted. "But I know now. I know who the father is and—"

"That's fascinating dearie," he calmly interjected. "I would hope so considering the father is your husband."

"Gold, you know as well as I do that there was a possibility…"

"And yet, I told you that I wanted nothing to do with you or that little worm in your arms. However, if you want to insist that our trysts led to the procreation of such a thing, then I will reissue my past offer of a thousand dollars. You can do with it whatever you wish but I don't see how this is my concern."

Her jaw dropped and she was truly struggling with what to say next, but Gold dismissed her by walking over and showing her the door. There was no way that things would change, she saw that now, and she with resignation settling on her features… she left the shop without another word to him until he forced her to sign that contract to save Game of Thorns.

It had been a means to an end but it did little good and it only served to remind him that he was a monster.

The time seemed to stretch slowly, almost feeling like years passing by, but as soon as Gold would get a glimpse of his ex-lover and her "happy" family it only made his vexation all the more prevalent. Was he doomed to witness what he could never have? It was then he would find himself desiring a stiff drink. At least the alcohol numbed the pain as much as it could and he could forget their faces, but something would trigger his memories and then Gold was left to drown in his sorrows.

However, Gold waited for the moment for the shit to hit the fan, but it never came. Yes, Lilianna's eyes revealed who her real father was, but no one seemed to care, including Greg. He overheard the buffoon say the baby looked more like her mother than anything, and while Gold counted that as a small blessing… he wished Greg would have confronted Isabelle and…

And what? Dump her so Gold could assume his rightful role?

Instead, Greg doted on _his_ daughter, insisting she was going to be one tough little slugger. Apparently, the gender didn't matter to him as long as he could teach the child how to play sports. And the thought of his and Isabelle's daughter playing sports and wanting to be like her dimwitted "father" chilled the blood in his veins.

But what could he do?

He made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with Isabelle and her "baggage." As far as Isabelle was concerned, Gold was nothing but the sperm donor.

He was no father. And he didn't want to be one.

Of course, it wouldn't explain his need to get drunk every night and dream that he never threw Isabelle out. However, the darkness would call out to him and convince him that he made the right decision. Isabelle wanted nothing from him, except from what she could ring out of it and while she was playing coy in her desires… he knew it would be a matter of time before she took him up on his offer and ask for the money. Then it would prove he was right all along and that she wanted his money and nothing more.

Every night he was determined that the next day she would come back to him and ask for the money. And every day he would be disappointed that she did not.

Somehow, a year passed (a trying year it was) and Lillianna had grown so much. It was becoming more evident she was her mother's daughter with her chestnut hair and beaming smile, but it was her eyes that were all her father's—the little glint of knowing a secret and the promised mischief that she would get into if left to her own devices.

During her first birthday, she proved to be a little troublemaker by crawling away from her parents. She was a quick one and Isabelle was frantically running around looking for her daughter as well as Greg and their guests. However, Lillianna found one party guest that was too far from the rest of the party and all alone.

Gold was speechless when the child crawled up to him, her brown eyes blinking with interest at him. It was unsettling to be under such a deep inspection and scrutiny that she didn't look like any other one-year-old… no, she had the look of someone older and wiser well beyond her years.

Gold picked her up as gingerly as possible when she batted one of her pudgy fists against his cheek. Her tiny hand opened and clutched the end of his hair, her expression still pensive at this odd lonely man. It was impossible for his heart not to soften and he didn't mind that she pulled too hard on his hair, making him wince.

But someone else did mind.

"Lilianna!" the breathless and panicked voice broke him from his reverie. His spine went rigid as Isabelle stopped a couple feet away from him… her face almost comical at seeing him there of all places. "Gold…"

"It seems the birthday girl wanted an adventure," he said, hoping that Lilliana would be enough of a buffer to keep her mother censored towards him.

He was right, although he could tell she had some choice words she wanted to use. She held out her arms to take her child from him, practically ripping her from his grasp.

"You have no right to be here," Isabelle growled, her eyes narrowing at him. "I want you to go. I don't want you ever to come near my child again, do you hear me?"

"Isabelle, I—"

"No," she spat. "Not another word. I get to speak now. You made your decision and I've honored it. I would prefer you do the same for me. Leave. I don't ever want to see you near me or my family. We're done Gold."

At that moment, he wanted to argue, to plead forgiveness, but Isabelle was unrelenting. She was right. They were done.

xxXXxx

Now, the party seemed like ages ago and while he intended to respect Isabelle's wishes… he still couldn't get the image of Lillianna out of his mind. There was something unusual about the child and there was something else that bugged him as well.

Her name…

Even when he met Isabelle, there was something that didn't sit right with the name. She didn't seem like an Isabelle any more than Lillianna was Lillianna. But he couldn't put his finger on why or what it was exactly their names should have been.

While he was clueless over what Isabelle's was, with Lillianna, he could see another name taking place in his mind and more so in his dreams…

He found himself waking more often than not calling out for Lily. Now, he didn't know any Lily and even that still felt like something was missing. But Lily seemed partially right.

Not that he told anyone. For all of Storybrooke knew… Greg Hunter was the father. But he suspected someone else besides him and Isabelle knew the truth. Lately, he had been noticing how Regina would watch him whenever Lillianna was close. It could be something as stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to speak to whoever, and Isabelle will be there passing her while pushing Lillianna in her stroller, and Gold would be on the opposite side. That little tilt of her lips seemed to share more than Gold ever cared to know.

And his suspicions grew when the mayor asked him if he would help her procure a child. She felt she was ready to be a mother, but couldn't resist in slipping that it was a shame that most people could not experience that little joy. He had half the mind to tell her to go to Hell and find someone else… but he was intrigued by her display of maternal longings. And if Regina was a mother… she would have a weakness.

It was too good to be true! So, Gold was more than willing to help her procure a child… a newborn baby boy born in a jail cell by an eighteen-year-old miscreant.

Amazingly, the mayor's son, Henry, grew rapidly and as much as he wanted to destroy Regina… he couldn't help but be fond of the boy. The lad behaved nothing like Regina and he was willing to help others than hurt them. He knew the lack of using Henry was due to his own emotions about his daughter. But it didn't stop him from thinking of ways he could get back at Regina.

However, in the privacy that only nighttime could offer… Gold's mind drifted to his former lover and the tortures he inflicted upon himself. Every night he tried to convince himself that what he did was right and every night he knew he fucked up big time.

Yes… things would have been a lot better if Greg actually fathered Isabelle's child. But then he would be forced to see that oaf of a man within a child and the thought churned his stomach.

Yet, time and time again… Gold did nothing to change his current situation. He was a coward in not admitting the truth and he was a bigger coward to deny his flesh and blood, but there was nothing that could be done. Isabelle made it clear enough anyways.

Besides, his inebriated mind insisted… he was doing the kid a favor by not being in her life. He would only ruin her. And so what if her eyes were brown like his? It didn't mean anything… yes, that's right… eyes didn't mean anything and it didn't prove if he was biologically connected.

Eventually the confidence would fade away and Gold was faced with the harsh cold reality…

He was Lilianna's father and that wasn't going to change.

xxXXxx

Rent Day… his favorite day of the month, though it was certainly pushing it when Gold woke to the mother of all hangovers.

Knowing he couldn't very well go out in public and face his tenants with his bloodshot eyes and unshaven features… Gold managed to make himself look presentable as he began his rounds.

It was uneventful today. People had their money to give him—no one was short and no one told him that they would be running late. It was unfortunate since he was hoping he could evict someone to make his day bearable.

Even his trip to Game of Thorns was conflict-free with Isabelle's employee handing him the wad of cash. He didn't see the woman or her child and argued with himself that he wasn't looking for her.

It was getting dark out and he had one more stop to make.

As he approached Granny's Bed and Breakfast, he noticed the yellow bug parked out front. He turned an indifferent shoulder to the vehicle, not caring at how strange it was that some new car showed up in Storybrooke.

That all changed when a woman with blonde hair stood by the counter and told Granny that her name was Emma Swann.

_Emma…_

The floodgates burst opened and Rumplestiltskin was long last awake from his deep slumber.

The End

Will continue in the last part of the series… Part 7—_Seizing Destiny_.


End file.
